


A Visit from an Old F(r)iend

by Tuzilla



Series: Nineteen Days Later from Tuzilla [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry Potter - Freeform, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuzilla/pseuds/Tuzilla
Summary: In the years following the Battle of Hogwarts the HP4 are moving on with their lives and relationships when an ancient evil comes into the modern world...and it is hunting for Harry Potter.Some elements of this story are inventions from the story Nineteen Days Later, so I am attaching it to a series, even though it could mostly stand along.





	1. A Chapter of the Fiend as a Young Man

Ophioneus Eaurynome, or Opie, as he would soon become known to his fellow students, arrived at Hogwarts in the fall of 1999 from the southern Greek city of Kalamata. He had the olive complexion and shiny, dark eyes common to many people from Greece. Physically, he was a tad bit short and stocky with an Aquiline nose, thick, black hair. All in all, he was a fairly ordinary looking boy by Hogwarts standards.   
Other than a distinctive accent, he acted like a reasonably normal first-year student with most of the same curiosities, fears, excitement, trepidations and wonder that accompanied his peers. His parents, both magical folk, had schooled him in English since he was a small child in the hope he would one day find his way to Hogwarts. Having become successful in life, they wanted only the best for their son.  
At the sorting ceremony, the Sorting Hat found him to be one of its most curious placements, taking almost long enough to be considered stuck in a hat stall before placing him. It claimed it had never before, in all its years of sorting students, debated so long and hard between placing a student in either Hufflepuff or Slytherin. Other combinations often caused a pause by the hat before announcing its decision, but never this one.  
“Curiously difficult,” grumbled the hat as it flexed and pondered. “I feel like there are two people seated under me. One is full of ambition and cunning. The other is truly loyal and willing to do whatever it takes to succeed.”   
“Maybe I should just pick Ravenclaw,” it continued. “You are clever and smart, very smart, but there is so much more here to consider. What should I do? Where should you go? No matter what I pick, I will be right, but no matter what I pick, I will also be wrong.”  
Opie sat, clutching the charm on the necklace hanging around his neck as the other students who were waiting to be sorted watched, each hoping their sorting would go easier than his. He fidgeted and squirmed, wondering why everyone else had been sorted so quickly, but his sorting was taking an inordinately long time, sweat started to form on his brow. He preferred not having this kind of attention drawn to him on day one.  
In the end, Opie became a member of Slytherin House. He was welcomed most graciously by its members, who promised that the hat had done right by him. He sat at the Slytherin table, watching the others be sorted one by one, hoping everything at Hogwarts would not be so arduous and stressful.  
It did not take him long to get comfortable with his new family. He took a quick liking to life in Slytherin and at Hogwarts. His homesick feelings soon left him for the excitement of the classrooms.  
The members of Slytherin also took a liking to him. He was a dedicated, ambitious student with a keen mind. His efforts in the classroom earned him and Slytherin many house points. Considering his status as a first-year, he was quickly getting noticed as a member with the potential of moving up through the ranks.  
As good as he was in all of his classes, he stood out the most in Charms class. He learned most charms with ease and also started creating new charms on his own. They started out fairly simple, albeit bad, such as a farting charm that could cause the victim to loudly announce his presence followed by a stench that could clear a classroom or common room.   
Fartundo, as he called it, evolved into a charm that made a person void their bladder and bowel as they stood quivering for several moments. Many people began to notice that whenever he used one of his original, always sinister spells, administered with a snake-like olive wand that according to him was over a thousand years old and had a minotaur hair core he would also clutch the ever-present charm that hung on a chain around his neck when performing magic. No one believed his wand story, having never heard of such a thing. They figured he made it up to add to his mystic.  
The charm was decorated with an intricate pattern and the strange looking inscription that appear to be in an ancient language, perhaps Ancient Greek. It began to generate more and more chat concerning what powers it might possess and where it might have originated.  
By his second year, Opie had a corps of very loyal friends to whom he was also very loyal and protective. Although he was not exceptionally skilled at dueling, his willingness to defend them with his ever-increasing arsenal of evil curses caused others to give his group a wide berth wherever they passed. It was a foolish person who put him or herself at the risk of one of his quick to administer hexes.   
The school, for its part, tried over the years to keep him and his friends in check. His professors often disapproved of his behavior and tried to correct it, but much the same could have been said about James Potter, Sirius Black, Dumbledore and countless others. They held off on more severe discipline such as expulsion because of his academic brilliance. The house points he earned in class far outweighed the points he lost his house with his misbehavior.  
If things had stayed the course over the rest of his years at Hogwarts, there is a fair chance that he would have grown up to be a very skilled wizard with the potential of a highly-successful career. It was hoped by the school that he would eventually outgrow his immature, evil streak and settle down into a more mature individual.   
However, the chance of those things occurring took a wrong turn at the start of his third year when a group of older Slytherin students took to ‘borrowing’ books which should not be borrowed from the restricted section of the school library. They were looking for deviltry to get into and tricks they could play on targets in other Hogwarts houses under the guise of researching subjects for their Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts class.   
Unfortunately, they left the books lying about the Slytherin common room. This simple act of carelessness inadvertently provided access to some dark information and knowledge that should not be meddled with to exactly the person who should not be meddling with it.  
Opie was a bookworm in the tradition of Hermione Granger and other academically gifted students. When he noticed some strange volumes on the big table in the center of the common room, he did as he was prone to do, he picked one up. The contents were discussing things way above and beyond anything he had ever thought or done. It was a whole new level of magic to him, at first academically fascinating, then becoming intriguing at the I want to try some of this stuff level.  
In Secrets of the Darkest Arts, he found a section about a thing called a horcrux. He had heard of them previously through a short story called The Fall of Voldemort by Hermione Granger. Hermione discussed the fact Voldemort had made horcruxes and that they had searched them out and destroyed them, leading to his ultimate demise. However, she never got into the nuts and bolts of horcruxes and how they were made. This text was much more about the creation of them. It was kind of scary to think that such a thing could actually exist. He took it, and a few other books over time back to his bed space to keep for further study.  
Scary as the subject matter was, Opie seemed drawn to reading about horcruxes. He would sit, rubbing his charm and rereading about them on multiple occasions. He understood from the combination of the book and the story by Hermione that horcruxes were created through the act of murder, which he found abhorrent.   
Making a horcrux required more than a simple a murder. The vessel that would be used to house the piece of soul comprising the horcrux had to first be prepared with some dark magic. Nothing he was yet to find discussed the spells necessary to prepare the vessel to become a horcrux. Neither could he find information on reanimating one back into a living being.   
Lacking the complete set of facts needed, his newfound knowledge of horcruxes slipped over time into the dark recesses at the back of his mind where it laid dormant with volumes of other extraneous things he had learned over time. It was just another thing left to be forgotten, that should probably remain forgotten, trapped inside his mental oubliette.   
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had spent these recent times readjusting to life without the ever-present threat of Voldemort destroying their world, and moving on with their lives. Talk was beginning to mention the idea the Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione might be tracking toward eventual marriages. Harry and Ron had decided to forego returning to Hogwarts for their final year of schooling in favor of training to become aurors. That involved three tough years of training. Hermione was disappointed they would not be finishing Hogwarts, but understood, giving Ron’s desire her blessing.   
She returned to Hogwarts and attained her complete set of N.E.W.T.s, before moving into a position at the Ministry. Kingsley, already mentoring her, advised her to work hard, as many in the Ministry had her marked for great things in the future. Ginny studied hard and played harder, serving as both a chaser and occasional seeker on a Gryffindor team that won the Quidditch Cup in the 1995-96 and 1996-97 seasons. She initially took a job at The Prophet as a writer, giving her a foot into gaining a fine career. Then she left it when she got the call to come play professional Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies.  
George and Angelina Johnson were also becoming closer and closer, as were Neville and Hannah Abbott. Arthur Weasley received a promotion within the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, giving the family a much-appreciated boost in income. The Malfoys became more and more reclusive following their escape from being sentenced to Azkaban. Draco was courting Astoria Greengrass.  
 


	2. A Dark Star is Reborn

Time passed, and the remote darkness of Opie’s mental oubliette was still doing what it does best. Opie’s knowledge of horcruxes was becoming the aged skeleton of a forgotten prisoner crumbling into a dusty oblivion. Then some fools figuratively poked a sleeping dragon.  
Opie had just left Potions class when he was grabbed by a pair of seventh-year students intent on taking his curious necklace and charm so they could examine it and find its hidden powers. He wrestled away from them and blocked a full body-bind curse, then left the bigger of the two shaking and voiding himself in front of his classmates in the middle of the hall as his partner was running a frantic zig-zag trying to avoid the same fate or worse.  
This, despite a lot of spoken interest, was the first overt attempt to steal his most prized possession. It had been given to him as a bequest from his grandfather’s will along with his very unique wand. He spent the rest of the day warily guarding it, suspicious of every set of eyes that looked his way.  
That night, he wore it to bed for the first time since receiving it. In the past, he had always placed it, along with his wand, under his pillow. That night, he felt the need for the added security of actual physical contact.  
That night, he slept a fitful sleep haunted by dreams of an ancient, powerful wizard who had died a horrible death at the hands of an enemy. It ached of a desire to exact revenge on him and their families. He brushed it off as the results of the attack on him earlier in the day. By lunch, it was mostly forgotten.  
That night, for whatever reason, he felt compelled to wear it to bed, again. It was another restless night of dynamic dreams. He dreamt of the same ancient wizard, who talked of powerful spells and magic, the likes of which were unknown to him. He saw the wizard prevailing over other dark wizards and all others who opposed him.  
In the morning, he had an idea for a new spell that seemed to be stuck in his mind from his dreams. He worked on it all day until he suddenly perfected it with a snap and twist of his wand accompanied by “Debonio!” It left the chicken he pointed it at a quivering, squawking mass without a bone in its body. The power of the spell both intrigued and scared him.  
Opie continued to wear his necklace and charm to bed. Each night, he would be visited by this ancient wizard. Each night he would learn about new magic, often sinister magic that could be used to defend himself, or force others to do his bidding and to control events around him.  
One night, he had a dream where the wizard in his head was attacked by a wizard with whom he had argued and dueled in the past. He had bested the attacker in their first meeting, leaving him humiliated in a pile of his own excrement for all to ridicule outside of a pub. The attacker was armed with a powerful wand that he could not overpower. The wizard in his head died a brutal death at the hand of the attacker, who punished and tortured him before mercilessly delivering the coup de grâce.  
In the duel, he was certain the wizard’s wand was his wand, and his necklace and charm were around the wizard’s neck. After his death, the attacker took both of them before leaving. Opie felt certain the wizard was seeking revenge on his attacker. That was at the core of his dreams.  
In another dream, he saw the wizard, younger at the time, kill a person while holding the necklace and charm that was now around his neck. Again, he was using Opie’s wand.  
Weeks of increasingly vivid and aggressive dreams passed. The ancient wizard took to instructing him on the need to conduct a bizarre, complicated ritual that would move Opie’s learning to the next level of dark magic. It would require time and secrecy as he would have to assemble a collection of very unusual items for the ceremony he would conduct. He was completely under the influence of the wizard in his head. It would be done without question.  
Unknown to anyone, Opie started sneaking out of the castle and slipping into the shops of Knockturn Alley. He made purchases in Borgin & Burkes, The Coffin House and Dystyl Phaelanges, as well as obtaining various supplies from Mr. Mulpepper’s Apothecary and Shyverwretch’s Venoms and Poisons. Everything necessary was stashed in the Room of Requirements, which he felt was the safest option available. Halloween was a few days away. The wizard in his head was most insistent that the ritual must be performed on that night.  
Halloween morning arrived. It had been a very stressful night. The old wizard had rehearsed him over and over until he could probably perform the ritual in his sleep…which he was. There was no room for error. Everything had to be done perfectly. That was abundantly clear.  
The Halloween Ball was the ideal cover for Opie to slip away to perform the ritual. He made himself up into a ghoul to give the impression he was going to the ball. He carefully ducked away into the outer corridors and out of the castle.  
Getting passed the whomping willow was always a chore. He needed to be quick since he had no idea how to freeze it. With the speed of a scared rabbit, he darted under the limbs and into the hole at the base before it could get a clear swing at him. Now it was time to get down to business.  
He had cleared an area, so he could build a fire under the cauldron he had found in the backroom of the shack. He laid the wood for the fire, then placed the cauldron on top of it. He started pouring in potions and other liquids, followed by bones and other strange objects collected on his trips to Knockturn Alley.  
Once all of the ingredients were inside, he lit the fire and started reciting the incantation he had repeated in his sleep at least a hundred times. He had no idea what he was saying, as it was in a language strangely familiar, but unknown to him.  
Hic en Spiritun  
Sed Non Incorpore  
Evokare Lemurs de Mortuis  
Decretum Espugnare  
De Demono Angelus  
Herpon Ho Deinos  
En Inferno Inremeablis  
Wa Ta Na Siam  
Wa Ta Na Siam  
Wa Ta Na Siam  
Wa Ta Na Siam  
As the flames rose, strange smells, a thin, acrid smoke and flashes of light started to emanate from the cauldron. The room got hotter and hotter until Opie started to feel dizzy from the heat. Strange shadows danced on the walls like pagan demons celebrating the ceremony.  
He repeated the incantation several more times. Eventually, a steady light began glowing straight up from the cauldron. He removed the necklace and charm from his neck. Reciting the incantation yet another time, he dropped it into the cauldron.  
There was a flash of blinding light and smoke began rolling over the top. Opie pushed a chair close to it and stepped up onto it. Repeating the incantation again, he jumped into the cauldron as he finished. There was an explosion, followed by an inferno of dark flames and smoke. As it died down, something resembling a human form stood up and climbed out onto the chair, then down onto the floor.  
Time passed and the form lay deathly still. The fire faded and died, leaving the room pitch dark for hours. As the morning light finally started to penetrate the cracks in the shack, the form finally started to move in the gray darkness.  
It rose, stretching as it tried to gather in its surrounding. After a moment it found Opie’s wand and raised it over its head. “Lumos,” said its voice as the room was filled with light.  
Once lit, the form revealed itself to be a somewhat tall, gaunt man, stooped by the burden of age. He had a ring of unruly, white hair, bushy eyebrows and a long, white beard. His eyes were a piercing, ice blue. He had a permanently scowling expression harkening of a seriously mean, probably evil person.  
In the corner of the room was a blue with gold trim robe and a matching cloak. He smiled a sinister smile as he covered his nakedness with them, feeling the touch of clothing on his body for the first time in nearly a millennium.  
He started casting spell after spell at the dilapidated furnishings of the shack until he had dealt great damage to them. It pleased him, as he apparently was regaining all of his powers. The time had come for him to venture forth to get a first-hand look at the new world he was in.  
 


	3. Days of Past Future Past

He found his way out from the shack, emerging from the hole at the base of the tree. The willow took a mighty swing at the intruder that had violated it space. He severed the swooping limb with a wave of his wand, leaving the tree dazed and confused.  
His head contained all of his knowledge from his previous life, as well as all of Opie’s life experiences. This made him well-prepared to move into the present time and to embark on the mission held dormant with him in the charm for these many centuries.  
Harry and Ginny finished the best meal available in Diagon Alley. It was a celebration day. While Ginny was a pretty good professional level Quidditch player, she was still wanting in getting herself in the record books or hall of fame. She normally played chaser on the Holyhead Harpies, but last night she filled in as seeker against the Chudney Cannons. The team’s regular seeker had suffered an injury during practice.   
The game started as a defensive battle. After ten minutes, the score was still nil-nil. Then Ginny placed her name forever in the professional quidditch record book. Spotting the snitch, she rocketed across the pitch and made a stunning backhanded grab of it as it tried to elude her. The game was won by a score of Holyhead 150 – Chudney 0. It was the first time in recorded quidditch history that a game was won without a goal being scored by either side. It was a record which could someday be equaled. But it could never be surpassed. She was a permanent name in quidditch history.  
Ginny and Harry walked down the alley after their meal. Spotting Ollivander’s, they decided to walk in to see how renovations were coming following the destruction of the shop during his kidnapping by the Death Eaters.  
“Harry, my boy. How good to see you. And GINNY! Superstar Ginny!” he said, holding up a copy of The Daily Prophet with a huge picture of Ginny on her broom and the headline Ginny 150 – Chudney 0. She picked up a quill and autographed it for him.  
“What brings you here, today?” he asked.  
“We wanted to see how you were doing, and to ask about wands.”  
“Of course. As you can see, much of my inventory disappeared, but my storeroom of wand stock and cores was basically untouched. What kind of wands are you wondering about?”  
“When we were in Japan,” began Harry, “we had a bit of a conflict with two students using cherry wands with dragon heartstring cores. We beat them on skill and luck. Their wands were, on the other hand, much more powerful than ours. When we handled them, before giving them back, we were both taken by how powerful they felt in our hands. We are wondering if you could construct a pair of cherry dragon heartstring wands for us?”  
“I can do that, of course, but not just any piece of cherry or heartstring will do. Let me look in the back. I may have something suitable.  
Mr. Ollivander was gone for several minutes. When he reappeared, he had a box and a carefully wrapped package. “Let’s have a look at this,” he said as he unwrapped the package. It contained a pair of unfinished wand blanks. “This, I am told, is the finest cherry from the most famous wand tree in Japan. It has been in my family for countless years. Perhaps it is time for it to be put to use.”  
Opening the box, he pulled out a pair of dragon heartstring strands. “This heartstring is from a wild, male Hungarian Horntail. I dare say there is no stronger heartstring in the world. Let me go to work and see what I can make of it all.”  
“Thank you, sir,” said both of them. “We will come back in a few days.”  
The wizard walked in the direction of Hogsmeade Village. Along the way, he encountered a slightly heavyset man at a fork in the road who was also traveling to Hogsmeade from the other direction.  
“Greetings, friend,” said the stranger in a friendly voice. “I am Caspian Tuttle. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”  
“I am Herpo…uh…Herpo Eaurynome.” The words felt strange as they came out of his mouth, like he was tasting a new food, and was not certain whether or not he liked it. He had a good command of this strange English thanks to Opie. But it was not his native ancient Greek.  
“You do not appear to be from these parts,” said Caspian, looking at Herpo’s attire. “From where are you traveling?”  
“I was born in Greece, but have traveled most of my life,” replied Herpo, already starting to tire of the conversation.  
“What brings you to Hogsmeade?” Caspian continued with his questions.  
“I seek knowledge of a genealogical nature. I am looking for a bookstore.”  
“You want Tomes & Scroll, then. Impressive collection on just about any subject. They can set you straight up.”  
Herpo had now gotten all of the information he needed for the time being. It was time to further test his skills and powers. Unseen to Caspian, Herpo’s wand slid into his bony hand.  
“Avada Kedavra!” he spewed out. There was a flash of green light as Caspian crumpled onto the ground.   
Herpo dragged him off the road to a secluded spot where it would be a long time before someone accidentally happened upon his body. He rifled through Caspian’s pockets, taking everything of value. Most notably, he found a bag loaded with galleons, newts and sickles.  
A short time later he found himself walking through the village, looking for the bookstore. He stopped first at the Hog’s Head Inn, where he quietly ate his first meal in literally hundreds of years. Even though he was eating food cooked by Aberforth, not known as a particularly skillful chef, the meal tasted amazing.   
“I am looking for a bookstore I am told is in this village,” he said to Aberforth as he settled his bill.  
‘That would be Tomes & Scroll. To the right and left at the corner. It will be on the left side of the street about halfway down,” said Aberforth, using his arm to aid in directing him.  
He turned and walked away without thanking Aberforth. Aberforth gave him a suspicious eye as he left, getting a very unsettling feeling from this stranger.  
The shop was where Aberforth had directed him. He entered and was greeted by the proprietor who said, “Welcome, how can I assist you?”  
“I am seeking books about genealogy,” answered Herpo. “I am trying to trace bloodlines.”  
“You have come to the right place,” was the reply. “We have a huge section dedicated to that subject. Is there a particular family name you are researching?  
“Peverell.”  
“Ah, yes. Peverell. I can help you there. Follow me.”  
The proprietor led Herpo to a section in the back. He pulled out a few dust-covered volumes and put them on a nearby table. “You should be able to find what you need in these. Please ask if you need further assistance.”  
Herpo sat down without saying a word and started looking at the first book, Wizarding Families Throughout the Years. He found a section on the Peverells. His quarrel was with Antioch, the wizard who had tortured and killed him centuries earlier. In his first encounter with Antioch, he had shown him mercy of sort. He found him an unworthy opponent, who he easily defeated in front of many others. Instead of killing him, he snapped his wand and left him to the ridicule of his peers.  
When Antioch challenged him a second time, he did not take him serious enough until it was too late. Antioch defeated him. Then, instead of showing Herpo the mercy Herpo had shown him, he killed him with the killing curse, so all could see his power.  
Herpo’s body was returned to his wife, an evil little witch with a temper almost the equal of Herpo’s. She took his wand and necklace with its strange charm and gave it to his son. Both became family heirlooms. No one, until Opie, ever detected the secret hidden within.  
He wanted to attack and wipe out Antioch’s entire bloodline, but discovered that Antioch had died without leaving an heir shortly after killing him. This infuriated him, but he turned his attention to the other brothers.   
Cadmus had also died about the same time. His heirs could be worthy targets. But his heirs were mostly related to Salazar Slytherin, a wizard for whom he had great respect due to him being the only other parselmouth he knew about. He suspected they might be distant relatives from days long before.  
This left him with Ignotus. His lineage was quite interesting because it included names he knew from the knowledge gained from Opie. He was especially intrigued by Harry Potter, who he knew via Opie as the conqueror of Lord Voldemort and possessor of the Deathly Hallows. That meant he must have possession of the wand that had killed him. Harry was quickly marked as his number one target.  
“Did you find what you were searching for?” asked the proprietor, noticing Herpo was preparing to leave.  
“Yes. I found many things.”  
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”  
“I seek information about Harry Potter. Do you know where I can find this wizard named Harry Potter?”  
“He is quite famous, of course. I believe he lives in London, now. I understand he is studying to be an auror at the Ministry. Try these books. They can tell you of him and his exploits.”  
“Good,” said Herpo, sitting back down to read.  
 


	4. Finding the First Step

Hermione was busy with her Ministry work. She was, in typical Hermione fashion, that worker bee the other worker bees referred to as a Type A. Ginny was practicing extra hard for an exhibition game against the Bulgarian National Team. The Harpies would be up against a team led by Viktor Krum, and she might need to fill in as the seeker if their regular seeker did not recover from their recent injury. It would be a chance of a lifetime. She needed to be at the top of her game.   
Ginny had picked up her new wand, along with Harry at Ollivander’s a day earlier. Mr. Ollivander had refused payment claiming they were thanks for rescuing him from Malfoy Manor and to celebrate Ginny’s record book day. They thanked him graciously for them. “I must save you again, one day,” chuckled Harry.  
Harry said his wand, which was 11” and slightly springy, felt even more powerful than the one he had held at Mahoutokoro. “It almost feels like the Elder Wand,” he commented.   
Ginny’s wand, which was 12” and reasonably supple, also felt significantly stronger according to her. Having never held the Elder Wand, she had to go with Harry’s assessment.  
They soon found them unsuitable for their daily, routine magic. Their regular wands were in no danger of being put on the shelf. Harry broke a bone in his hand when an accio spell delivered a book too hot and heavy. Ginny badly damaged the oven door at The Burrows opening and closing it while making cookies. It was decided the wands were only suitable for combative purposes, where they truly excelled.  
Ron and Harry were continuing their auror training. They had reached the point where the Ministry was ready to start sending them out on actual cases as trainees. First on their list of assignments was looking into the disappearance of a Hogwarts student named Ophioneus Eaurynome. He was last seen at the annual Hogwarts Halloween Ball.  
They arrived at Hogwarts with a pair of senior aurors. Vertimus Odinson was tall and slim. He had brilliant blue eyes and long, Scandinavian blonde hair. It was a certainty that the ladies swooned at his good looks. His partner, Annalphus Tillerman, was shorter with catlike features centered on high cheekbones, and eyes and eyebrows pointing a little too upwards. His longish, straight black hair was reminiscent of Snape’s. They both wore plain, auror-issue black robes that would not draw interest to them, and make you likely to forget you saw them after the fact  
The foursome was shown to a room where all of Opie’s possessions were gathered for their inspection. As they examined them, Vertimus quizzed Ron and Harry on what they saw.  
The only notable things mentioned as missing were his curious charm and wand. It was rightfully expected that whatever happened, he would have had them with him. So it was not considered suspicious.  
The professors gave them a good description of both items. That way they would have a reasonable ability to identify him from them if such an opportunity arose.  
“I think most of it is pretty normal for a student,” said Harry. “It is very similar to the things I had while here. I know we should be looking for unique things offering clues or hints about him. Nothing special is presenting itself.”  
“He has a lot of books, like a Hermione Granger lot of books,” added Ron. “But, other than his required class books, they all seem to center on dark magic. He seems fascinated with things one might not be supposed to be fascinated with.”  
“Good,” said Vertimus. “I am seeing much of the same. He looks like a fairly normal student with an infatuation with things some might say are best not tampered with.”  
“Maybe we should go talk to some of his classmates,” said Annalphus. “Let’s see how he was seen by his peers.”  
“Yes,” agreed Harry. “The opinions of others might be useful. Then we can talk to his professors.”  
“Excellent,” concurred Vertimus. “We need the whole picture.”  
As they started to leave, Ron said, “Wait. Harry. Do you remember this book?” He was holding up a copy of Secrets of the Darkest Arts.   
“It looks familiar,” said Harry. Vertimus and Annalphus stood back, wondering what had caught Ron’s attention.  
“This is the book Hermione showed us one time. It is the book that tells about horcruxes. Don’t you remember?”  
“Oh, sure,” said Harry, looking at the book. “When we were sorting out Voldemort. You’re not thinking he was making horcruxes, are you?”  
Vertimus and Annalphus looked at each other, then at Ron. “Where are you going with this?” asked Annalphus.  
“I’m not sure. I’m just saying it’s a strange book for anyone to have. Maybe he was looking at something else in it.”   
“Well, keep it in mind. Let’s talk to some other students,” said Vertimus, leading them out of the room.   
They were very soon to learn that his friends, mostly other Slytherin students, found him a loyal, staunch friend. They said he would do anything he could to help and support you. He would be the first to jump up and defend you if you were attacked. Everyone was deeply concerned about his disappearance.  
“You would think he was part Hufflepuff, if you didn’t know him better,” said Symphytia Blackwort. “He was much cooler and ambitious than those lazy, layabouts.”  
“He was a great friend. He was always there when you needed him. I was picked on, teased by a lot of the others before meeting him. I gained the respect of those girls after a couple incidents that were, maybe a bit embarrassing for them.”  
All of them found this to be interesting. He sounded a bit like a Hufflepuff who got placed in Slytherin, but then, maybe not.  
Other students had a very different opinion of him. Several found him to be very, very smart. He could do anything he put his mind to. He was always at the top of the class, according to many.  
On the other hand, many, especially those with whom he had quarreled, had differing opinions. They thought he was cold, short-tempered and a bully. No one dared to cross him or disagree with him, or they might well find themselves suffering the effects of his growing arsenal of evil, vicious hexes.  
The opinion of his professors varied but had certain themes. They all agreed that he was a brilliant student and was willing to work as hard as it took to succeed. Some felt he would outgrow his evil pranks and behavior, while others held a great concern over it. Headmistress McGonagall went so far as to say he could end up being the Minister of Magic if he did not end up in Azkaban first.   
Herpo finished his reading and got up to leave. “Can I show you anything else?” asked the proprietor, still hoping to make a sale.  
“You say I can find Harry Potter in London,” stated Herpo, walking toward the door. “Point me in that direction.”  
“London is south of here on the Wizarding path. You’re lucky. It runs right through here. Will take you straight to London.”  
That would be to the left as you exit. But it is a long ways from here. Almost five hundred miles. You should take the train. The station is to the right.”  
Herpo exited without so much as a thank you or goodbye. He turned left and started walking. Even though he had traveling knowledge, such as the Hogwarts Express, through Opie, he preferred to travel the way he was accustomed during most of his life. He would walk. Besides, it would give him more time to hone and perfect his skills.  
 


	5. I Will Walk 500 Miles

Herpo followed the path south across the Scottish landscape. It was invisible to muggles, but very clear to witches and wizards. It would be easy enough to follow.   
The hills were dark green and the creeks and small rivers more twisty and frequent. He passed the miles practicing spells. He turned several birds into various objects such as pots and pans. He made a shrub attack a rabbit and rocks chase a red deer. He left a creek with the water running uphill, which amused him.  
As the evening started to fall, he saw two men standing up ahead by a large rock amid a cluster of pines. He could hear them talking as he approached, but could not make out any of the conversation.  
They were rough looking men, unshaven and wearing unwashed, tattered clothes. Nothing about them gave off a good feeling. Herpo had his wand in his hand before he got to them  
“Good evening,” said one of the men, looking at Herpo as he stopped in front of them. “Where are you heading, friend?”  
“London,” replied Herpo coldly, obviously not interested in a protracted conversation.  
“London?” said the second man. “That is a long way for a person of your years to be traveling.” Both of the men were giving him a thorough going over with their eyes, apparently attempting to size him up.  
Herpo looked at them and then started to walk passed them. He had no interest in standing around talking when he could be walking.   
“Hold on, friend. What type of business can be so urgent that you need to walk off so rudely, yet so unimportant that you can spend a month walking instead of taking a train?” said the first man, stepping in front of him.  
“The business is my own,” replied Herpo coarsely, starting to walk, again. “Step aside.”  
“What do you make of this bloke, Stewart?” said the first man.  
“Curious, William. I think we need to sort him out. I think he might be hiding something from us,” said the other man, grabbing his robe and roughly pulling them back in their direction.  
The second man started reaching for his robe when a flash of green light hit the first man. He crumpled like a marionette whose lines had been cut. The second man started to back away, confused and scared. Herpo looked him in the eye and pointed his wand at him.  
“Wha-What did you do?” he said, raising his hands and backing away. “Please, don…” a flash of green cut him off mid-sentence. He dropped on the ground like a discarded rag doll.   
Herpo sifted through their clothes in the dying light. He pocketed a fair quantity of muggle money and a few other items, such as a jackknife, some potent drink and tobacco pouch. Then he dragged them, one by one, into the trees where he carved with a trench with a wave of his wand enough for their bodies. “Enjoy the worms,” snarled Herpo as he waved his wand causing them to tumble into the trench. A second wave covered them with the wet earth and decaying pine needles and cones.  
Darkness was quickly hiding the path as Herpo walked toward the next copse of evergreens. He found a spot under one of the large trees. He gathered the carpet of brown needles into a pillow and lay down for the night.  
In the morning, Herpo rose up, ready to continue south. He picked up a broken limb from one of the pines and laid it on the path. He waved his wand and the limb was transformed into a staff about six feet in length. With a couple more waves it was turned into a green, hooded snake with bright green scales and a white belly. It looked very imposing.  
Herpo continued south on the path for several days, crossing rivers and valleys with magical tricks. He avoided muggle villages and towns, only sneaking in to steal food and drink. A second pair of highwaymen met the same fate as the first pair, yielding more muggle money and goods.  
Ginny had a very eventful game as seeker against Viktor Krum and Bulgaria. Bulgaria ultimately prevailed 110-80, with neither seeker capturing the snitch, but the battle between the two was first-rate in preventing the other from capturing it on multiple occasions.  
All of the Weasleys, except Ron, who was working with Harry, and Hermione had seats next to the minister’s box, thanks to Ginny’s status as a player. All of them were wearing Holyhead sweaters with Ginny number. Lucius, and especially Draco Malfoy, were visibly annoyed by this situation. You could see it on their faces as they stared at them from their less prestigious box up and away from the center of the pitch.  
After the game, Viktor approached Ginny. With a respectful bow, he took Ginny’s hand and kissed it. “Congratulations on your record. You will be part of quidditch history forever.”  
“Thanks, Viktor,” said Ginny, feeling a wave of humble at the compliment from the undisputed best seeker in the game.  
“It is good to see you, again. You played a most excellent game. You have a great future as a seeker. I hope we can play, again.”  
“Thank you, Viktor,” said Ginny, impressed with the manners that seem to come with having been a student at Durmstrang. She remembered the gentlemanly way all of the Durmstrang students had demonstrated during their time at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. “It is good to see you, too. I follow you in the sports news. You are having a great year.”  
“Thank you. How is Hermione? Do you still see her?” asked Viktor, his brief flirtation with her apparently still a fond memory to him.  
“She is fine. She is here. I expect she will be along, soon. We always meet up after games. She will be happy to see you.”  
Hermione’s career was moving forward at a rapid pace. Her work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was gaining her constant recognition. Some people were spreading a rumor she was planning to move to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  
“Here she comes, now,” said Ginny, pointing at her as she walked through a wave of dejected Harpies fans.   
“Ginny!” smiled Hermione, walking up to them. “Fraternizing with the enemy, are we?”  
Hermione smiled at Viktor and offered her hand. He took it with practiced precision and kissed it. “Hermione, I am happy to see you. How are you?”  
“I’m well,” she answered. “I am very busy these days.”  
“Are you still seeing Ron?” asked Viktor hopefully. “Can I offer to buy you dinner?”  
Hermione rubbed her hand across her breast and smiled. “Ron and I are closer than ever.  
“Then may I treat you and Ginny to dinner?” displaying more of his gentlemanly poise. “Three friends.”  
Hermione looked at Ginny, who smiled back at her. “How can we resist an offer like that. Of course,” said Ginny.  
They both took one of Viktor’s arms and walked toward the exit amidst the flashes of a few paparazzi cameras. “If I may,” said Hermione. “Allow me to select the place. I have a friend at Frederick’s. He’ll get us in.”  
“Of course,” said Viktor.  
Harry, Ron and their mentors closed their investigation at Hogwarts and prepared to leave. They were a long way from solving the disappearance of Opie. All they knew was he was a very curious boy with very curious ways. They had no clues to his whereabouts. Some thought he disappeared by choice, adding to his mystery. Others thought he may have dabbled too far into the dark arts and met a grizzly end. A few thought he was hiding, playing some sort of prank. They would need to return to the Ministry before continuing.  
They decided to leave for London after eating. As they dined a parliament of owls clouded over the hall, dropping letters and packages to the students and staff. Vertimus was surprised when a large barred owl dropped a letter in front of him. It was from the Auror office and marked urgent.  
The others looked his way as he opened it amidst the general chaos of the students tearing open the mail and reading it, or examining the contents of packages containing anything from money to treats to new underwear. As Vertimus read the missive, he shook his head and then put it down.  
“Looks like we will be staying on a bit longer,” he announced as the group's eyebrows raised and expressions widened. “We have another disappearance to investigate. Seems a fellow named Caspian Tuttle never returned home from a trip to Hogsmeade. His family has reported him as missing. The office wants us to look into it.”  
They finished eating and unpacked their investigation gear from traveling bags. “Let’s get on with it,” said Annalphus. “No reason to make this last any longer than necessary.   
 


	6. Search and Disclose

It was a chilly, but sunny day, as they walked out of the castle. Most of the trees along the way had given up their leaves and were prepared for winter. Other than a few birds and a squirrel who was busily gathering pine cones, the path was abandoned.  
“You know this place,” said Vertimus, looking at Harry and Ron. “Where do you propose we start?”  
Harry and Ron looked at each other. “What do you think, Ron?”  
“Probably the Three Broomstick,” replied Ron, looking to Harry for agreement. “Madam Rosmerta seems to know every bit of gossip there is.”  
“Yes,” agreed Harry, looking down the street at the pub. “We should start there.”  
The Three Broomsticks was fairly busy as they walked in. Everyone paused to look at them. Harry and Ron were known there, but not Vertimus and Annalphus.  
“What can I get you fellas?” asked Rosmerta.  
“A couple of Ogden’s for us,” said Annalphus, looking at Vertimus, then Rosmerta.  
“Butterbeers,” said Ron, smiling at her. “You know how we like them.”  
“Yes, I think I have served you kids a couple of them over time,” she chuckled, knowing she had, in reality, served the two of them a hundred or more, each.  
She returned a moment later with their drinks. “What brings you boys here,” she asked, looking at Harry and Ron. “I haven’t seen you since before the big battle.”  
“We’re here looking for information. We are studying to be aurors. We were looking into the disappearance of the student up at the school,” replied Harry. “Now we are looking into the disappearance of a man named Caspian Tuttle. His wife said he came to town a little over a week ago and never came home. Do you know anything about that?”  
“Cas is a regular in here. He usually stops when he is in town shopping. Friendly fella. Always a cheerful word. He would have a couple firewhiskeys and a bite to eat. Never caused or got into any trouble. Model customer.”  
“Were you aware he was missing?” asked Ron.  
“How does a guy get a drink around this place?” yelled a somewhat inebriated man sitting at a table with a couple of friends who were equally compromised. “We’re dying of thirst over here.”  
“Shut up, you git!” she hollered, throwing a wet bar rag at him. “I’m talking business over here. I’ll get you drinks in a minute.”  
Ron and Harry chuckled as the rag smacked him in the forehead. They knew better than to cross Madam Rosmerta. They had seen her handle more than one unruly customer. It was not wise to get on her bad side.  
“I know he hasn’t been in lately, which is a bit odd. He is usually in once a week. I thought he might be sick. I didn’t know he was missing.”  
“Where does he live?” asked Vertimus. “We need to go out to his place and talk to his family.”  
“He lives a couple hours walk out the lake trail. His house sits in a field overlooking the lake. You can’t miss it, as long as you stay on the trail.”  
Caspian’s wife was unaware of her husband’s habit of taking a nip or two on his trips to town. She had stopped at the stores he was supposed to visit on his trip. When the owners said they had not seen him in over a week, she got concerned and filed the missing person report.   
No one had thought to talk to her. It was one of those rare occasions when she was outside the loop. The group finished their drinks and headed down the street to talk to more shopkeepers.  
None of the others had any information to add to what they already knew. They had not seen him in a week or so, which they all agreed was odd. They ended up in the Hog’s Head to see if Aberforth knew anything.   
Aberforth knew Caspian, but had not seen him. Thinking for a moment, he noted that he had a very unusual stranger in his place about the same time as Caspian was thought to have disappeared. “There might be a connection with him, I supposed?”  
“Tell us what you remember about him,” said Annalphus, taking his book out to take notes.  
“Anything can be useful,” said Vertimus. “Tell us everything you can.”  
“He was an old guy, mostly bald with white, scruffy hair and a longbeard. He had a mean, scowly expression like he hadn’t smiled in years, like he had forgotten how. He felt cold and angry like he was mad at the world.”  
“Good,” said Annalphus, writing as fast as he could. “Please continue.”  
“He was dressed in a bright blue robe with shiny gold trim. Looked like someone you might see in an old History of Magic textbook. No one dresses like that anymore, not even for Halloween.”  
Ron and Harry watched in silence, taking in both the information and the methodology of getting the information.   
“Did he say anything, sir?” asked Vertimus  
Not much of a talker, not friendly at all,” continued Aberforth. “Barely spoke a word. Just ate and asked where to find…uh…oh ya. He asked about the bookstore down the street. Seemed to need to find some kind of book. That’s about it.”  
Annalphus got up. “Looks like we need to go there. At least we’re getting some useful information here. More than we were getting on that student.”  
“Thanks, Ab,” said Ron, getting up and walking toward the door with the others.   
They walked out of the Hog’s Head and turned right. “It is across the street over there,” said Harry, pointing at a store with a sign made from books as the rounded the corner.  
“It feels like we are finally onto something,” added Ron. “After all that time getting nothing at the school, this is better.”  
“We didn’t get nothing,” said Vertimus, seeing a teaching moment. “You never get nothing. You just didn’t get what you needed. It is always out there. We found a place that it isn’t. Now we are a bit closer to where it is. I think, if we look far enough, we will connect both of them.”  
They arrived at Tomes & Scrolls. The proprietor seemed stunned at seeing four customers at once. “Good day, gentlemen,” he blurted out in a cheerful tone. “How may I assist you, this fine day?”  
“I am Vertimus Odinson from the Auror Office of the Ministry of Magic in London. These are my associates, Ron, Annalphus and Harry. We are seeking information.”  
“Of course,” came the reply from the proprietor, trying to hide the disappointment of the fact he was not going to make a sale behind his smile. “What information do you seek?”  
“We were told that you may have had an unusual customer a while back,” said Annalphus.  
“I get a fair amount of those,” the proprietor said with a chuckle. “Much of my collection is a magnet for that sort.”  
“This one would have stood out.” Annalphus cut back in. “He was an old guy, quite anti-social type. He would have been wearing a blue gown with gold trim.”  
“AH!” interrupted the proprietor. “Yes, I do remember him. He was unusual among the other unusual sorts. He came in a while back. He was looking for genealogical books.”  
“Did he say what he wanted with them?” asked Vertimus.  
Yes. He was searching for information on a family…uh…oh yes, the Peverell family.”  
Harry gulped and looked at Ron. He wasn’t certain where this would go, maybe nowhere, but it pinged his radar. If felt too close to home, too soon for more drama involving him.  
“What’s the matter, mate?” asked Ron.  
“You remember. The Peverells. The three brothers and the Deathly Hallows. Ignotus is a distant relative of mine. I don’t like it.”  
“Easy, mate. It is probably nothing,” reassured Ron, as the unseen bomb was sailing groundward, directly at them.  
“But at the end, he homed in on finding Harry Potter. He wanted to know where to find him.” Harry nearly fell over as Ron grabbed him as he reeled.   
Vertimus and Annalphus looked at Harry and Ron as Ron steadied Harry. The proprietor looked confused.  
“What’s wrong?” asked the proprietor.   
“That’s Harry Potter,” said Vertimus as Annalphus stepped over to aid Harry and Ron.  
“Merlin’s beard,” said the now startled proprietor. “I should have recognized him. Have I done something wrong? Am I in trouble?”  
“No, you’re not in trouble,” Vertimus assured him. “What did you tell him?”  
“He asked where I could find him. I told him what most people should already know, that Harry is in London, studying to be an auror. Was that wrong?  
“It’s fine. Besides, Harry is here, and now we know he is looking for him. Might give us an advantage.”  
Harry was sitting in a chair at a table. Looking a bit woozy. “Are you all right?” asked Ron. The others were all looking his way.  
“I don’t know,” replied Harry, his voice between panicky and scared. “What does this mean? Who is this guy? It’s like Voldemort is back. I am being hunted, again.”  
“Which way did he go when he left?” asked Annalphus.  
“He asked which way to London. I told him it was on the Wizarding Path, left out the door, but it would be about 500 miles. I suggested going to the train station, which is to the right. He went left when he went out the door. He must be walking unless he had some other method of travel.”  
Annalphus looked at Vertimus. “At least we have something to go on. Let’s get our things and see if we can find his trail. If he is as old as he sounds, he probably doesn’t move too fast.”  
They waited until Harry felt up to traveling, then headed out on the road south. With any luck, they might find some more clues before too long.   
Meanwhile, Ginny was practicing for her next game against the Ballycastle Bats later that day. The match had been moved to a neutral site near London because of hooliganism at the previous meeting of the two teams. It seemed the Welsh were less than welcoming to their Northern Irish neighbors. That escalated into an unpleasant confrontation at several pubs and clubs around Holyhead. The ministry put sanctions on both teams that meant their fans would have to buck up in the future, or the club deemed at fault would lose a lot of money.  
Hermione decided to take advantage of this rare opportunity to see Ginny play close to home. She took the day off to watch the practice before eating with Ginny prior to the match. As she watched, Ginny, who was back at her regular chaser position, was sailing around the pitch with the quaffle like a powerful eagle.   
Suddenly, Ginny buckled, dropping the quaffle. She slumped forward on her broom, barely making it to the ground before falling off. The team, medical people and others swarmed around her. Hermione jumped over the wall and ran to her side, as well.  
By the time Hermione pushed through to her, Ginny was sitting up, talking. “It felt like I took a bludger to the chest,” she said. “I lost my breath and felt faint. I feel okay, now, but that was weird.”  
The medical team examined her top to bottom. They could not find anything wrong. As a precaution, the team decided to sit her for the game, which made her angry. But the coach is the boss, and she had to comply.   
Hermione was waiting for her as she left the medical station. They walked down the street to a club for a bite to eat. They ordered and Ginny went over the incident again. Then she asked Hermione if she had heard from Ron, lately.   
“Sure,” he writes twice a week quipped Hermione. “You know Ron, always a quill in hand.”  
Ginny just looked at her with a frown, knowing she was being facetious. “Yeah, right, my brother the writer. I am trying to be serious.”  
“Oh, then no,” replied Hermione, realizing her error. “What have you heard from Harry? I know he at least writes on occasion.”  
“Well, the last I heard, Ron and him went to Hogwarts with a couple of senior aurors to investigate the disappearance of a student. It is a training mission. I haven’t heard from him since, which is a bit odd. I am worried that something may be wrong. All of a sudden, I can’t shake that feeling.”  
Their food and drinks arrived. As they started to eat, Hermione tried to downplay the notion of there being trouble at Hogwarts. “I am sure the Ministry would have heard if there was any real trouble,”  
Ginny chased a cherry tomato around her salad bowl like it was a wayward quaffle. “I just feel something isn’t right,” she reiterated. “I have a dark feeling.”  
“Still wearing the amulet from Owen and Mother Matavan,” said Hermione, referring to the amulets they had gotten from the witch doctor while in Australia. She then pulled hers from under her sweater.  
“Yes, replied Ginny, rubbing it. “I think it brings me luck. At least most of the time.” Hermione nodded in agreement.  
‘I’ll contact Hogwarts when I get back to the Ministry. I’ll ask if they are still there and what is happening. Then I will send them both a Howler for not writing to us,” she smirked.  
Ginny smiled a little at the notion of a Howler. “I guess that would make me feel better. And it would serve those two gits right for not talking to us.”  
 


	7. The Long and Winding Road to London

Herpo continued along the path on his relentless trek south. As he passed outside Edinburgh he encountered a group of six, drunken soccer hooligans who were in a bad mood after the defeat of their club at a cross in the paths. They thought it might be a good idea to vent a little of their steam by taking after the old man in the funny robe that was conveniently available for their needs.  
“Where ya goin’, old man?” started the taunts. And thus it progressed through a slew of insults.  
“Why ya wearing those ugly lookin’ clothes?”   
“Did your mommy dress you?”  
“Is your name Nancy?”  
“Ya looks like a faggot from down in Manchester. We don’t like faggots up here, especially the Manchester kind.”  
“Maybe we ought ta fix ya up a bit,” said one as he sprayed an ale his way. Another threw some cheese and sandwich bits at him.   
“Let’s fix him, so he don’t offend our delicate senses,” said another as they started to move toward him.  
Herpo was way beyond mad at this point. He tossed his staff on the ground. Then, with a wave of his wand, it was transformed into a real serpent, big and mean, head raised up looking directly at them with a pair of glowing eyes.   
The hooligans, being muggles, and having never considered the possibility of real-life wizards, were in shock. They stepped back, wondering if the drinks in their heads were playing tricks on them.   
“What are you playing at?” the leader of the group asked.  
Herpo pointed his wand at the one with the biggest mouth. With a swish, he transformed him into a rat. In the blink of an eye, the snake lunged, snatching him in his jaws. He gave the rat a couple gulps to realign him in his mouth, then unceremoniously swallowed him head first.   
The others turned to run but were just as quickly transfigured. “Eat,” said Herpo, holding them in a hex, unable to move, until the snake at consumed the lot of them as they squealed mercilessly. All that was left was six piles of clothes.   
Herpo changed the snake back into his staff. He then rifled through all of their pockets, collecting money and other interesting items. Much of what he took was useless to him, but he assumed he could trade it for food and drink somewhere down the road. He then kicked their clothes to the side of the road and proceeded onward.  
The team made it to Perth after two days on the road. There was a pub called The Wizard’s Hat there that was a haven for wayward witches and wizards. They let it be known that they were looking for information about an old man in a blue and gold robe. It was a long shot, but the best they had for now.  
Hermione got a return owl from Hogwarts at the Ministry. It said: Dear Hermione, Harry, Ron and their trainers ended the investigating the disappearance of our student several days ago. They were preparing to leave for London when they received an urgent owl from the Ministry asking them to look into the disappearance of a man in Hogsmeade. I presume they are doing that, now. Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall P.S. It is good to hear from you. Come visit sometime.  
Nothing materialized over the course of the day. They took a room over the pub. It wasn’t much more than some beds and a dirty window out over the street, but it was better than the trees they had slept under the previous night. They would leave in the morning.  
“Are we going to walk this path all of the way to London?” asked Ron, dreading the notion of the long trek.  
“No idea,” replied Annalphus. “We need to give this a bit of a look before abandoning it. We don’t have any other leads.”  
“I imagine you thought life as an auror was all glitz and fame,” said Vertimus with a grin. “You are getting a dose of the real life, boys.”  
“Yup. Get used to it, mates,” agreed Annalphus. “Let’s turn in.”  
The night passed without notice. A dingy morning light struggling to enter the room through the dirt on the window woke them. They could smell food cooking downstairs.   
“Let’s get some breakfast, fellas,” said Vertimus, who was the first to unload himself from his worn out bed.   
“C’mon, Ron,” said Harry, jostling him. “Let’s go, mate. You know Vertimus by now. If you’re late downstairs, he’s is going to finish and say let’s go. Don’t want to be walking on an empty stomach.”  
Ron peeled himself out of bed. He knew Harry was right. When Vertimus finished eating, they would all be leaving, ready or not.  
Harry and Ron followed Annalphus down the stairs. Vertimus was standing by a table talking to a slim man in a ragged outfit. He seemed quite interested in whatever it was the man was telling him.  
“Ah, nice of you to join us,” said Vertimus with a hint of sarcasm. “This is Fumdor Dougal. It seems he has seen our man in the blue and gold robe. Tell my associates what you told me.”  
Fumdor looked at them and started retelling his information. “My friend and I were outside of town when we met a stranger dress as you described. He had a big walking stick that looked like a green serpent with a white belly. I greeted him in a friendly way and asked where he was headed. He said London, to which I said that is a long way from here. Did he need assistance? He replied No.”   
“Yes, yes,” said Vertimus. “Please continue.”  
“I said we meant no offense, we are just asking. He just kind of looked at us with his frowny face and eyes. His eyes were like they were looking straight through you.”  
My friend said it would be nice if he were a little more friendly to people offering him aid. He scowled and said he needed nothing from us, to which my friend took a bit of offense. So, my friend suggested he might need a lesson in courtesy. The stranger pulled out his wand and waved it at Robert.   
Well, Robert went stiff and then started to shake. I stepped back with my hands raised up. I didn’t want none of that. Then I smelled something awful. So I look at Robert. Pee and crap are running out of his pants onto the ground. It was horrible.”  
“He looked over at me. I was still standing there with my hands raised, trying not to get more of the same. He said lesson complete, and walked away.”  
The group looked at each other, not liking what they heard, but glad in a way to have something to go on indicating they were on the right path.   
“Where is your friend, Robert?” asked Annalphus. “Can he back up your story?”  
“I imagine he is at home, but I’m not sure if he’ll talk about it,” said Fumdor. “He’s a right bit embarrassed about the whole thing. I’ll show you his house. It’s down the street a ways.”  
Robert’s home sat on the edge of the village. His wife, a portly woman in her forties wearing a plain dress with an apron showing many years of use, answered the door. She summoned Robert, who was, as feared, reluctant to discuss the matter. His wife served them drinks as they talked. In the end, they did get enough out of him to make them feel confident they had a true story and most, if not all of the facts.  
Thanking Fumdor, and Robert and his wife for their help, the group headed south on the trail. Robert’s wife gave them a bundle of sandwiches for the road. Having a lead, they did not want to give their quarry more time to put more space between them. They started back on their southerly course.  
Hermione made a special trip over to Holyhead to see Ginny. She showed her the message. It did not dispel Ginny’s feeling of dark trouble surrounding Harry. She said, “I would feel better if I heard it from him. It is not like him to go this long without at least a note saying he loves me, or something. I still have a bad feeling haunting me.”  
“I also spoke with the auror office, before coming. They said the last communication from Vertimus and Annalphus, they are the senior aurors in charge of the mission, said they had visited the Tuttle house and Hogsmeade. Aberforth Dumbledore had given them information about an elderly wizard in a blue robe and gown trimmed in gold. The proprietor of Tomes & Scrolls confirmed the description and said he had come in looking for genealogical information. He started looking at the Peverell family, but eventually started investigating Harry Potter…”  
Ginny fell back in her seat. “…I knew it. I told you about my feelings. Something bad is happening. What else did they tell you?”  
“I knew this would hit you like this,” said Hermione, a tear in her eye. “I am scared for both of them, too.”  
Ginny looked at Hermione, tears in her eyes as well. “It’s not fair. We’ve been through this. Why do we have to go through it, again?”  
 


	8. Further on Down the Road

Ron and Harry suddenly looked at each other. “Did you just feel something? I just felt something,” said Ron.  
“Yes. It’s weird, like someone is poking me in the chest.”  
“Exactly. That is what I feel…did you hear something?” asked Ron, interrupting himself by stopping and tipping his head like he was listening for a small, distant sound.  
“No, just the noise around us.”  
“There it is, again,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his deluminator. As they looked at it, a faint whisper saying Ron emanated from it. Ron looked at Harry and clicked it.  
A little ball of light, just like when he was lost during their search for the horcruxes, appeared and moved toward his chest. “Something’s wrong,” he said in a panicky voice. “Hermione needs me. Stay here. I will come back to here.”  
The ball of light went into his chest. He disapparated as Vertimus and Annalphus turned just in time to see him dissolving into vacant space.   
“What just happened?” said Vertimus, looking confused. “What was that in his hand?” Where’d he go?”  
“It is hard to explain,” said Harry, gathering his thoughts. “It is a deluminator. It does a lot of things, including help transport you places. Dumbledore left it to him in his will. Neither of us really understand exactly how it works, but this is the second time Hermione has called out to him through it. It will take him to her. We need to wait here until he comes back, or at least I do. You can look around while I wait, if you want.”  
Herpo continued his southerly trek along the path without too much drama. He bought or traded for food and drink along the way. As he approached the path across Northumberland Park he encountered several groups of muggles who either passed by without comment or complimented his tenacity for hiking the park. Some of them tried to chat with him without too much success. A few gave him things, such as food, drink and a blanket for the cool nights in the park. While he was his normal, less than friendly self, he did not treat them poorly or with disrespect. He accepted gifts when given and quietly moved along.  
Ron reappeared outside the restaurant as Hermione and Ginny were about to exit. It was a miracle no muggles saw him suddenly materialize. The girls nearly fainted as they basically walked into Ron, who was looking around, trying to get his bearings.  
“Where did you come from?” gasped Hermione, throwing her arms around him. How did you find us?” Ginny stood by, flabbergasted by his miraculous appearance.  
“I heard you, Mione,” he said. “I heard you calling to me.”  
“What?” she said.  
“With this, like before,” he said, holding up the deluminator. “I heard your voice and the little ball of light went to my heart. Just like before.”  
“Are you all right?” asked Ginny. “Where’s Harry?”  
“We are okay. We are working. What is wrong here? Why did you call me?”  
There was an obvious cloud of confusion, with Ron unaware of the incident with Ginny.  
“Ginny had a spell during practice. She collapsed and had to sit out a game.”  
“Blimey, Gin. Are you okay?” asked Ron, a real concern in his voice.   
“Let’s sit down and sort this out,” said Ginny. “Follow me. I know a spot.” She led them into a pleasant, little coffee shop. The smell of fresh coffee and bakery goods tempted their taste buds. They sat down and ordered three cappuccinos and some fresh scones.  
“Okay, let’s go back to the start,” said Hermione. “Ginny had a game in London a few days ago, so I went to the practice. While I was watching, she collapsed on her broom. She is lucky she managed to get it to the ground before she fell off.”   
Ron’s eyes were wide open and he had a shocked expression. “What happened, Gin?” he asked.  
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I felt like I got hit by a bludger right in the chest. I couldn’t breathe. I managed to make it to the ground as I passed out. Then, it started to go away, and I felt okay after a few minutes. But ever since then, I have been having feelings like Harry is in danger.”  
“But you’re okay, now?” asked Ron, taking a bite of his scone. “Did you tell mom and dad?   
“I’m mostly okay,” she answered, sipping her cappuccino. “No, I didn’t tell mom and dad. I didn’t know what to tell them, and I feel pretty good, so why worry them?”  
“What do you mean, mostly okay?”  
I still have that lingering feeling of something not being right. That feeling the Harry, and probably you are in danger.”  
“I sent an owl to Hogwarts,” said Hermione, jumping into the exchange. “Professor McGonagall told us you were there but were preparing to leave when you got an urgent owl from the Ministry asking them to investigate a disappearance in Hogsmeade. So I went to the auror office and they told me you were on the trail of a wizard in a blue and gold trimmed robe. He is supposedly searching for Harry. I was telling Ginny about it. That was just moments before you arrived.”  
That is what we felt!” exclaimed Ron. “Harry and I got a weird feeling like you were in trouble. We were talking about it when I heard your voice coming from the deluminator.”  
Hermione got up and started hugging Ron. “I’m worried. What can we do? Who is this wizard?”  
“We don’t know who he is, but he is definitely a bad guy and pretty powerful,” said Ron, hugging her back. “We are on his trail. We wish we knew more about him.”  
Ginny leaned forward on the table crying. “I’m scared Ron. I don’t want you and Harry hunting this guy. Both of you should come home. Let the others deal with him.”  
“I don’t think that will work,” said Ron, trying to keep his voice calm and down away from prying ears. “He is hunting Harry. I don’t think hiding will work. I think we are eventually going to have to face him. It will be better on our terms. It will be four against one, and Vertimus and Annalphus are really good. I think we are better off finding him, than the other way around.”  
“I don’t like it, Ron,” said Hermione, starting to cry, as well. “I want to help.”  
“Me too,” said Ginny. “We beat Voldemort together. We can beat this guy.”  
“This could be Voldemort, again,” said Hermione. “He could be back, again.”  
“No, I don’t think it is Voldemort. He isn’t acting like Voldemort. Please, you have to stay here and be strong” pleaded Ron. “Let us handle it. I promise we will let you know what is happening.”  
Both Hermione and Ginny were hugging Ron, which was causing a lot of stares in the coffee shop. Two crying girls hugging a guy. It had to be interesting. You could tell several people were leaning in, trying to hear their conversation.  
“I’ve got to get back,” said Ron. “They are waiting for me. Please be strong. We need you to be strong for us.”  
Ron got up and started out of the shop. Ginny and Hermione were both crying and hugging each other. Ron slipped around a corner and quickly disapparated. In a flash, he was back to the place from where he had left.  
“What was happening?” asked Harry, very worried about what he might hear. “Is everything okay?  
“The girls know we are hunting this guy. They know he is hunting you. They are both very worried. I tried to calm things, but what could I say?”  
“So what do we do?” asked Harry, standing up.  
“I guess we just have to continue on,” said Ron.  
By now, Vertimus and Annalphus were standing there. As much as they were concerned with the situation as Ron explained it, they wanted to see this deluminator thing. Ron let them examine it, and he showed them how it could capture a light, and then send it back out. They were fascinated by it. He had to promise to let them examine it more when they got back to the Ministry.  
They started back on the trail and soon found themselves passing Edinburgh. Their mood was waning. They had not encountered anything encouraging them to continue for quite some time.  
Harry had managed to send an update to Hermione at the Ministry from a Wizarding pub that Annalphus found on his map of the area.  
“I feel like this trail has gone cold,” said Ron, tired from the days of walking.  
“It is discouraging,” agreed Annalphus. “We may need to rethink our strategy.”  
“What are you thinking,” queried Vertimus, still plodding along.  
“Well, we seem to have lost the scent. It might be time to consider going to London and waiting for him to arrive,” said Annalphus. “What do you think, Harry?”  
“I’m not sure. This guy is looking for me, and he seems dangerous. I don’t want to just sit and wait for him to sneak up on us. But I’m not sure what we can do here.”  
Just then, they came upon a pile of discarded clothes.   
“This is odd,” said Ron. Who throws perfectly good clothes away on the side of a trail?”  
“Yes, and it looks like one, two, three, four, five, six sets according to the shoes. The shoe sizes seem to vary a lot. Not from just one or two people, either,” said Vertimus.  
“What are you thinking?” asked Annalphus.  
“I don’t know,” replied Vertimus as he started passing his wand back and forth over the clothes. “Curious. Curious”  
Annalphus started passing his wand over the clothes, as well. A concerned look crept across his face. “What are you sensing, Vert?”  
“I get a feeling that dark magic has touched these. The kind we can expect from our quarry.”  
“I feel it, too. Something bad happened here. Can you feel it, Harry? Ron?”  
Neither of them understood what they felt. Vertimus and Annalphus started trying to explain how they could feel the residuals from the dark spells. Harry remembered Dumbledore saying dark magic left traces when he was explaining about the horcruxes.   
By the end, they were starting to feel some of it. But it was going to take more time and practice before they were really able to detect it without help.   
“Look at all of the rat hair,” said Ron. “That’s definitely rat hair. I had a rat for years at school. I know that’s rat hair.”  
“Probably just scavenging through the clothes,” said Annalphus, passing his want back and forth over it. But his face showed a bit of confusion and concern. “What do you feel, here?”  
Vertimus started passing his wand over the small clumps of hair. “There’s something wrong, here. It appears to be rat hair, but some kind of magic is attached to it. It’s like…like…like the rat was a person. Like the person was transfigured. This is very bad,” he said. His face looking very concerned.  
Annalphus joined Vertimus in examining the hairs with his wand. “Yes, there is dark magic here. This is not animagus magic. This is dark, like someone was turned into a rat against their will.”  
Harry and Ron watched, puzzled by what they were seeing. “Are you saying these people were turned into rats?” asked Harry.  
“Yes,” replied Vertimus. “That is exactly what I am sensing. Come. Feel the magic on this.”  
Ron and Harry started passing their wands over the hairs. They felt a tingling but did not understand it.  
“What are we trying to detect?” asked Ron, unsure what he was doing. “I feel a little tingling, but I don’t know what I am looking for.”  
“That tingle is leftover magic climbing back up your wand. Move your wand away, over by the rocks, maybe,” said Vertimus. Ron walked over to the rocks. “Now move your wand around. Do you still feel any tingles?” Harry moved over to do the same thing.  
“No,” answered Ron. “I don’t feel anything.”  
“Good. Now come back and scan the rat hairs.”  
Ron and Harry both came back and started waving the wands over the hairs. “I feel something,” said Ron.  
“I feel it, too,” said Harry, looking at Vertimus.  
“Good. Now you need to learn how to tell good magic from bad.”  
Both of them looked at Vertimus. They were very interested in what he was saying. This was good stuff.  
“Good magic fades fast. Sometimes you can’t detect it, even minutes after it happens. Dark magic endures longer, the traces can last for hours, days, weeks, even years, especially if it is very dark magic.”  
“So how do we tell the two apart,” asked Harry.  
“That is tricky and not always easily sorted out. Good magic can feel good.” Vertimus cast a spell making some nearby flowers bloom. “Go scan the magic on them.”  
“I feel it,” said Harry.  
“Me too,” said Ron. “And I feel kind of warm, happy.”  
“Excellent. That is exactly what you should get from it. Now go scan those hairs, again.”  
“I get the tingle, but I don’t feel the warmth. I think I feel a bit of a chill, and I feel a bit of sadness.”  
“Yes, me too,” said Harry. “It is like the feeling from the dementors, only very faint.”  
“You’ve got it. Perfect. It is a very important skill. You need to practice it more when you have time. Sensing magic is important to our jobs. So, now, go scan the flowers, again.”  
Ron and Harry returned to the flowers and started scanning. “I’ve lost it,” said Ron. “I don’t feel anything.”  
“Yeah,” said Harry. “I think I might feel a little, but it is pretty much gone.”  
“And that’s how it is with good magic. It dissipates very quickly.”  
They looked around the surrounding area for other clues but came away empty. Finally, they decided to move on, feeling confident, once again, that they were on the right trail.  
 


	9. Shepherding the Flock

Herpo was skirting the North Pennines along the course of the path as the group continued to close the gap between them. He was a persistent, but a slow walker, mostly due to his advanced age. They moved faster, with a certain amount of determination. If nothing changed, they should catch up to him by somewhere south of Durham before he made it to Leeds.   
The landscape was beautiful, but he had no appreciation for it. His eyes were locked on the goal. Anything in between was little more than wasted space to him.   
He stuck to his practice of avoiding people as much as possible. In his few encountered, he cut them as short as possible. His only real conflict was with a shepherd who took exception to him killing a lamb for food.   
“Who are you, stranger?” asked the shepherd, as he approached Herpo.   
“I am Herpo,” he replied, never looking up from his cooking.   
“That is one of my lambs, Mr. Herpo. I would have sold it to you at a fair price. But we do not take kindly to thievery in these part.”  
“You would deny a weary traveler a meal,” he snarled at him. “Yet you have so many, you would fight me over the smallest one.”   
The shepherd, a fairly large man with a large staff, was not a patient, docile man. He came at him with his staff as his dog tried to attack from behind. With a wave of the wand, the dog was transfigured into a lamb. “There is your replacement,” he said, looking at him with icy fire in his blue eyes. “You can join them. Then I will have added to your flock, not subtracted.” With a swoosh of his snakelike wand, the shepherd became one more member of the flock. “I hope you are happy, now,” he hissed at him, sitting back down to enjoy the meat he had been cooking when the shepherd confronted him.   
He slept there for the night, enjoying the bit of warmth provided by the fire. It felt good on his aged body. In the morning, he ate more of the cooked lamb before extinguishing the fire with a wave of his wand. Not that he was keeping track of time, but he felt he had wasted enough on the luxury of a hot meal and warm night of sleep.  
As he prepared to restart his trek, he took the shepherd’s bundle of food and drink for use on down the path. Again, he made the mistake of leaving his victim’s clothing where it might be found, which it would be by the group in a couple days. If he were just a little sharper and disposed of leftover clothing, they made have abandoned their chasing of him. They might have left him as the lone hunter, instead of the hunted. But the clothes and their residual dark magic traces kept them pointed at him. An eventual meeting seemed inevitable.  
A day and a half later the team encountered the flock straying all over the hillsides on both sides of the path. Annalphus, who had grown up in an area where sheep herding was common, immediately realized something was amiss. “This flock is out of control,” he said. There should be a shepherd and dog keeping them together. They split up, looking around for the missing shepherd and dog. They were not to be found.  
Eventually, Harry started yelling for them to come to him. He had found the extinguished fired, half-eaten lamb and a telltale pile of clothes. As they scanned the area around the firepit, the dark magic traces were easy to detect.   
“Blimey,” said Ron, trying to push away a very insistent sheep. “What is wrong with this bloody thing?” The sheep kept bumping and pushing against him while bleating insistently.  
“What, indeed?” said Annalphus. “What do you sense?”  
Ron took his wand and started slowly moving it over the sheep.” I feel dark magic,” he said. “There is dark magic on it.”  
“Yes,” agreed Vertimus as he scanned the strange animal. “This sheep is not what it seems.”   
‘Are you saying this sheep is the shepherd?” asked Harry.  
“I don’t know. Let’s find out,” he said, waving his wand. “Finite Incantatem!”  
The sheep transfigured back into the shepherd, naked as the day he was born. After being a sheep for over a day, he was quite disoriented. It took him a bit to recover his speaking ability and balance on two legs. However, they managed to get him dressed, and with the help of some water and bread, his senses started to come around.  
“Where’s my dog?” was the first truly coherent thing he said. “That bastard turned him into a lamb. What kind of demon is he?” Then, after a moment, he realized they had similar powers, “And you, as well?”  
“He is an evil wizard,” said Vertimus. “We are the good guys, so to speak.”  
“You’re telling me witches and wizard are real, not fairy tales? That is a hard thing to believe.”  
“So, where is your dog? Call him,” said Vertimus.  
The shepherd whistled very loudly and called out, “CANNIE!”, followed by another whistle.  
A lamb came up after a moment and started rubbing on him. Annalphus started scanning the lamb and said, “This appears to be your dog. Let me demonstrate that magic truly exists. “Finite Incantatem,” he said, swooping the wand in front of the lamb. It was instantly transfigured back into a very confused border collie.   
“Saints be,” said the shepherd. “I can’t believe me eyes.”  
“Now,” said Annalphus. “Tell us everything you can about this wizard who attacked you.”  
“He was an elderly man, bald with a ring of wild, white hair and a long, scruffy beard. His eyes were blue and cold as a white gale. He didn’t say much. He was an ornery sort, not much for talking.”  
“Did you get his name?  
“Yes, it was Her…uh…Herpo, yes, Herpo. That was it.”  
Harry looked at Ron. You could see the name strike a chord in their collective memory. “Herpo the Foul. The wizard who invented horcruxes,” said Harry.  
“We know who that is,” said Ron, loud enough to get the attention of the others. “We read about him when we were learning about Voldemort. He is an ancient Greek wizard named Herpo the Foul. He invented horcruxes. He was a really nasty guy.”  
“Are you certain?” asked Annalphus.  
“As sure as we can be, without him standing here. How many Herpos can there be that are evil wizards?” replied Ron. “He must be from a horcrux”  
The shepherd was watching and listening to this, too stunned to say anything. His whole world was going off the rails, and he didn’t even understand the half of it.  
“We have to get this information back to the Ministry,” said Vertimus.  
“We have to tell Ginny and Hermione,” said Harry. “I am scared of how they will react. This is a little above the normal bad guy level. This is like another Voldemort, only instead of a grand leader building an army to take over the world for him, this guy is sort of the opposite. His big problem is liking to kill people, or at least finding it too easy.”  
Vertimus looked over to Annalphus. “Do you think we have gotten all we can get from this guy?”  
“I believe so. Are we going to do a standard wipe and new memory?”  
“Yes, but we need to let Harry and Ron watch. They need to learn this skill.”  
Vertimus called Ron and Harry over to quietly explain what they needed to do before leaving this place. Annalphus engaged the shepherd in small talk to distract him while they got ready. It really did not matter what he said or told him. It was all going to be gone in a few more minutes. Then they needed to start tracking Herpo and getting an update to the Ministry.  
“We are going to use a ‘false memory spell’,” explained Vertimus. “They are different than the obliviate charm you probably know about. You can get in a lot of trouble using them unless you have a permit. The people who do accidental magic reversal and aurors are about the only folks who can get one. You’ll get one after you’re trained up on them and you graduate. For now, just watch us take care of this situation.”  
Vertimus walked over to where Annalphus and the shepherd were still talking. He was telling him about the vast network of witches and wizards in the UK and around the world. It was all stuff he should not know, but it was about to become a moot point.  
“Recordatio Mutatio,” said Vertimus with a twist of his wand. The shepherd sat up straight, with a glassy stare. “You have been having a very normal few days. Nothing unusual has happened. Everything has been fine. You will go on with business as usual when you wake up.”  
Vertimus and Annalphus quickly buried the lamb and fire pit. They signaled for Harry and Ron to follow them, walking in a purposeful manner until they were well out of sight and sound. “That is how it is done,” said Vertimus with a chuckle. “After being a sheep for a couple days, we probably did him a favor.  
They kept walking for a couple more hours down the path. It was starting to get dark. According to Annalphus’ map, there was a wizard friendly inn called The Gelded Pony near Birtley. If they kept walking for another hour, it would mean hot food and a bed. They could make contact with the Ministry tomorrow after breakfast in the morning.  
Going to bed on a full stomach of shepherd’s pie and some good drinks felt wonderful. They were once again grateful for Annalphus’ book The Little Big Book of Everyplace an Auror Ought to Know by Candlus Renwick. It took no time at all for them to be sleeping comfortably. They doubted Herpo was enjoying similar comforts along the way. No one in the place had seen Herpo, which did not surprise them. There seemed to be trouble anytime he encountered muggles or other magical folks. Everything was quite peaceful at The Gelded Pony.   
In the morning, they got up to a breakfast fit for the house elves at Hogwarts. There were eggs to order, freshly toasted whole grain bread, sausage, bacon, ham with fried tomatoes and mushrooms, blood pudding and baked beans. The tea was hot, strong and plentiful. It was hard to push away from the table, but duty was calling.  
The first order of business was sending the report to the Ministry. It was a consensus that the Ministry was not going to like what they were about to hear. They wondered if more aurors might be dispatched. At the same time, Harry penned a letter to Hermione. He was confident that she would get it, and then share the information with Ginny. Ginny could be away at a game, but Hermione should be at the Ministry.  
Harry and Ron both fretted about how the news would be received. This was not going to go over well. They just hoped they would not have to respond to another emergency situation.  
The possession of new information, bad as it was, encouraged them to press forward. With two good meals and a good night of sleep, they were full of energy, ready to cover some ground. They had the spring back in their step that had been starting to wane. They felt like they were getting close to spotting Herpo. They hoped they would see him before he spotted them. As much as they wanted to see him and settle this, they were also wary of the potential danger an encounter with a wizard like him could bring.  
 


	10. Almost the Eve of Near Destruction

Herpo was also moving on down the trail. He had worked a little harder than usual to avoid encounters since the incident with the shepherd. It was not that he feared them. He did not have trouble dealing with them. Dispatching muggles was no more difficult than tossing away scraps of food. Dealing with other magical folk was generally not much more difficult for him. It was a rare situation that provided more of a challenge than one might consider a minor inconvenience.  
It was more to the idea that he did not relish or court them, unlike a Voldemort. Voldemort liked showing off, he liked a grand stage where he could put on a performance primarily aimed at stroking his own narcissistic ego for the world to see. Voldemort enjoyed lording his powers over others in the most painful, creative, flamboyant ways. It all fed his warped sense of self-worth.   
To Herpo, conflicts were more like dealing with the annoyance of persistent flies. He would kill or swat them away, only to have more arise to replace them. He sought solitude to hone his skill, learn and invent, and to avoid the interference of interruptions. His one real fault, beyond being a totally evil person when riled, was his need for vengeance against transgressors.   
If not for that, his revival through the reanimation of his horcrux might have found him returning to the solitary existence of perfecting his basilisk and other creations. That was on hold for now, until he fulfilled his need for closure by avenging his death at the hands of Antioch Peverell.   
The only question would be how many would need to die to satisfy that hunger for revenge. Antioch’s line was extinct. Ignotus’ line would end with Harry, the possessor of the Deathly Hallows. Would he still go after the line of Cadmus, which would lead him to the Weasleys? That would only be known after he dealt with Harry.  
Harry’s owl to the Ministry arrived and was routed to Hermione’s office. She took the letter, recognizing Harry’s quill strokes, with hopes it would bear good news, or at least not be another bombshell. She was going to be disappointed.  
Harry wrote, “Dear Hermione, I am writing you in hopes you can share this news with Ginny. We are well. Our travels are tedious, but we are closing in on our quarry. We had an encounter with a shepherd who ran afoul of him the day before. We’ll tell you more about that later. We got a name from him. It is Herpo. We believe that to be Herpo the Foul from that book with the horcrux information. That is all, for now. Harry P.S. XXXOOOXXXOOO to Ginny and xO to you. Ron sends you XXXOOOXXXOOO”.  
Hermione’s heart sank upon hearing the name Herpo the Foul. She immediately headed to the Ministry library to reread the section including Herpo in Secrets of the Darkest Arts. She already knew they were on a collision course with a dark wizard of Voldemort dimensions. They were in much greater danger than she had imagined in her worst moments of worry. She needed to see Ginny as soon as possible to give her the news she did not want to deliver.  
Luckily, the Harpies were at home for a game tomorrow night. She knew Ginny would have a morning practice. She spent a fretful night, barely sleeping, before apparating to Holyhead after a nervous breakfast consisting of little more than a cappuccino and some fruit.  
The sound of the practice was apparent as she approached the stadium. She identified herself to the security person at the gate. He had seen her before and let her in. It was a cool day sitting in the stands. The scarf and sweater Ron had given her while they were in Australia searching for her parents felt very warm and comfortable.  
When the practice ended, she waved down, hoping Ginny would see her as she left the pitch. Ginny waved back as she headed into the locker room. A few minutes later, she reemerged and walked up to where Hermione was seated.  
She gave Hermione a big hug and said, “I like that sweater and scarf. Wherever did you get it?” She obviously recognized it.  
“Oh, some guy gave it to me.”  
“Wow. He must be quite a guy.”  
“He’s all right, I guess. He has a good heart,” she choked out before both of them started laughing amid another big hug.  
They walked down, out of the stand and out of the stadium. Ginny led the two of them to a nearby coffee shop for a warm cappuccino. “They had been engaging in small talk, girl talk, along the way. Ginny admired Hermione’s new, pink Burberry clutch purse with its trademark plaid-like pattern. “I love it,” said Ginny. “I need one like it. You have to take me shopping the next time I am back in London. You can’t get anything like that around here.”  
But the prospect of news was still on her mind as they sat down and ordered. “What brings you here, today?” asked Ginny, hoping it to be good news from the boys.  
“I got an owl from Harry,” she said, pursing her lips as she pulled the letter out of her purse and handed it to Ginny. He wrote to me because it is easier to contact me, than you with all of your travels with the team.”  
Ginny unfolded it and started reading. “Herpo the Foul?” she said with a puzzled expression as she read. “Are we supposed to know that name? What do you know?”  
“We do,” replied Hermione with a serious face. “At least Ron, Harry and I do. When we were learning about Voldemort and horcruxes, I came across him in some books in the restricted section of the library.”  
Hermione reached into her purse and produced the book Secrets of the Darkest Arts. Ginny immediately realized this was not a normal store-issued Burberry purse. Hermione must have replaced her infamous beaded bag with this stylish upgrade. It caused a brief grin.   
“He is an ancient Greek wizard believed to be the inventor of horcruxes” she continued, showing her an illustration of Herpo, complete with the blue and gold trimmed gown Ron had mentioned. “He’s a very nasty guy. If they are right, then they are tracking a Voldemort-level wizard who has returned through a horcrux. This is very bad.”  
Ginny gasped and sat back, stunned in her chair. Several people in the shop looked over at them, drawn by Ginny’s dramatic reaction to the revelation. She was a local star, so they were already keyed in on her just because of who she was. The fact that something in their conversation caused a reaction of that magnitude was a guaranteed attention magnet. “What do we do? I have been worried for days, but this is worse.”  
Hermione looked at her, not speaking for a few seconds. It was clear she did not have anything positive to say. “I think we have to do what Ron asked us to do. I think we have to trust them and stay here and be brave. I can’t think of anything else. We don’t know where they are to find them.”  
You could tell that answer did not sit well with Ginny. She was an action-oriented person. Sitting and waiting was not her forte. She would prefer to charge off and prepare to help do battle with Herpo. However, she had to bow to Hermione’s reasoning. She was going to have to sit, uncomfortable as it might be, and let it eat at her from the inside out.  
Harry and Ron were both feeling uncomfortable as they trekked along. It was not enough to cause concern, like when Ginny had collapsed. But it was enough to give them an uneasy feeling.   
“I feel a bit queer,” said Ron, as they rounded a bend in the trail. “It is kind of like something is amiss, but I can’t be sure.”  
Harry said, “Strange, I’ve had a similar feeling for a bit. Maybe it is just the stress of the trail. Sometimes these long sections let my mind wander too far. I’d feel better if we could come onto something to examine, or better yet, find this Herpo and be done with it.”  
Vertimus and Annalphus could hear them talking over the crunch of their boots on the rocky trail. “I understand what you are feeling,” said Vertimus. “I felt the same way during my early days. Stuff doesn’t happen on a schedule very often.”  
“That’s right,” injected Annalphus, looking around at their surroundings. “We are making progress. I think we are getting close. We’ll catch up to this guy in due time. We just need to stay calm and focused so we’ll be ready when the time comes. That is the best plan.”  
“Sure,” said Harry, as Ron and he nodded in agreement. “It is just hard when you know this guy is actually looking for you. I feel like a deer hunting the hunter. I just wonder what happens when I find him.”  
“That’s fair,” said Vertimus. “I imagine it is tough to be in your spot. I have never been in a similar situation. We’ll handle it, though. There’s four of us, and we are all good at what we do. We can take care of this guy. There is a cell in Azkaban waiting for him. Just wait and see.”


	11. Be Careful what you Ask For

The Harpies won over the Appleby Arrows 210–100. Ginny had five goals in the win, which won her accolades from the fans. She had held them in the match until their seeker managed a daring capture of the Golden Snitch. Their next game was against the national team from Germany. It was seven days away. This gave Ginny a rare chance to return home to The Burrows for a couple days before practice resumed.  
“We are all so proud of you, Ginny dear,” gushed her mom, hugging her as she stepped out of the fireplace covered with floo powder and soot to see most of her family assembled for her visit.   
“Yeah, my little sister the star,” gibed George. “Lucky, we decided to open the store after I trained you up, Ginger Snap. Otherwise, you would still just be my little sister, and I...”  
Ginny was no longer the skinny, little girl the boys had all picked on all these years. She always hated that nickname, which is why Fred and George had persisted in using it on occasion. With a quick move, she hip checked George across the room and over the back of the couch. Percy and Bill laughed as Fleur smiled her approval. Arthur helped George up chuckling, “Best play nice, Georgie. Don’t want someone getting hurt.”  
Angelina Johnson looked at both of them, trying not to react. She was a pretty tough and fair quidditch player in her day, having been captain of the Gryffindor team between the times of Oliver Wood and Harry, you could tell she appreciated Ginny’s toughness, even though it was being demonstrated at the expense of her boyfriend.  
As they all settled in to relax before dinner, Molly and Fleur busied themselves in the kitchen. Ginny engaged in small talk for a while until she could no longer take it. She got up and went into the kitchen to bake some cookies and to make some pies. Even though everyone wanted to talk with her about her exploits on the quidditch pitch, no one complained about the notion of getting some of her bakery treats. She was still the best baker in the family.  
After a grand meal and some very fine wine from the part of France that was home to the family of Fleur, they finally settled back to relax and chat in earnest.  
Herpo was making his way around Durham, trying to avoid muggles as he passed. Passing cities was always the most tedious parts of the trail. He could go for long stretches in the countryside without seeing a soul, but the sprawl of cities, especially ones like Durham, with its university, meant a tougher time avoiding situations.  
The only situation he had incurred recently was in the late afternoon of yesterday and a stretch of path along the River Wear. He encountered a pair of fishermen and asked for a fish for his meal. The fishing had not been all that good this day, and they were not feeling generous. They laughed and tossed a small brown trout more suitable for use as bait than a meal at the old man in the funny outfit, as they called it.   
Herpo took offense to their rudeness to a stranger by turning them into a pair of trout, one short and fat, the other long and slim. He thought to leave them flopping on the bank, but he decided they would suffer longer if he kicked them into the river to live out their lives as fish.   
He started a fire and roasted two of the three nice trout they had planned to keep for themselves. He saved the third for breakfast. After finishing a satisfying meal, he found a spot nearby to rest for the night. Once again, he had left behind two piles of clothes with their other fishing gear. In the morning, he was back on the trail shortly after dawn. The morning meal and the early night got him feeling ready to travel.   
The cold of the impending winter was making travel more of a chore for all of them. Herpo had stolen some warm clothes along the way. The blanket he had been given turned into a blessing he would never acknowledge.  
The team had acquired clothing and sleeping gear more suitable for the increasingly cold weather at a couple of prior stops. Walking kept everyone comfortably warm. It took a nice fire during breaks and at night to take of the sharp edge of chill.  
Annalphus saw something along the river just as they were readying for a lunch break. It was the clothes of the fisherman. The spot where Herpo had encountered them was only a few yards off the path. The clothes, even though mostly brown, were actually a bit hard to miss. The fire pit, with fish bones and burnt fins lying next to it, meant someone had eaten here. Everyone pulled out their wands and started scanning. The dark magic on the clothing was easy to detect now that Harry and Ron understood the feedback on their wands.   
There was a feeling of magic over the fire pit, although very faint. It gave the indication that Herpo had been the one eating, and had later extinguished the fire. It felt like they were getting really close to an inevitable meeting.   
“He was definitely here,” said Vertimus. “This feels really fresh, like hours, not days.”  
“Yes, we should eat quickly,” said Annalphus. “I think we are almost on top of him. We can’t let him keep slipping on ahead of us.”  
“Where are the fishermen?” asked Harry, surmising from the gear what they were, or at least had been.   
“Best we probably don’t know,” said Vertimus. “I am not seeing rat hair, so I am assuming something worse.”  
They picked up their pace as the moved further south. They met muggles along the trail, as did Herpo. They were four instead of one, and two were in their forties, and the others in their twenties. This helped them avoid anything much beyond occasional exchanges of pleasantries and chats, usually involving a question about whether or not they had seen an old man in a blue and gold trimmed robe.  
As evening fell, they could not avoid the notion that they were almost on top of him. They wanted to keep pressing on, but the wisdom of Vertimus and Annalphus to not seek a confrontation in the dark caused them to start and fire and call it a night.  
“I feel so close I can almost see him,” said Ron. “It is like he is just around the next bend or over the next hill.”  
“I know,” said Harry. “I am getting anxious as well.”  
“Relax,” said Annalphus. “He is certainly done traveling for the day, as well. I think we know his pattern, by now. We need to get a good night of sleep. Tomorrow might require us to be at the top of our game. Best we be well rested.”  
Harry and Ron laid down. The clear night with a crescent moon and countless stars left the trees silhouetted around them. It took them a while to calm their minds enough to drift off into sleep. However, once there, they slept sound until the light of dawn set off a photonic alarm in their heads.  
They got up and ate the rest of their provisions for breakfast, save for a loaf of bread and some cheese. That would have to suffice for lunch. It would be necessary to find somewhere to get more food, if they were to eat again, today. Annalphus’ book told of a place south of their position. They could make it there by dinnertime if they did not encounter any delays.  
The frost quickly started to melt off the grass as what promised to be a sunny day began to unfold around them. The gravelly ground crunched loudly in the cold, dry air of a still morning. Four streams of frozen breath followed them down the trail.  
“Do you smell that?” said Vertimus.  
“What?” said Annalphus, as Ron and Harry looked at them.  
“I think I smell smoke.”  
No one else smelled it, so they walked on, then Ron said, “I think I smell smoke, too.” They all stopped.  
There was now a faint aroma of smoke in the air. They could all smell it. There were no houses in sight. Were we close? Was it his fire? They started walking without talking. They did not want to give away their presence until necessary.  
They crested a hill to find nothing. Then they rounded a bend, again nothing, but the smoke smell was strong here. They looked around. “If he was here, he would probably have camped by those trees,” said Vertimus. They walked toward them, finding the smoky smell quite strong.  
“Here it is,” said Ron. “It is still quite warm.” He had found an extinguished fire that was still radiating a fair amount of residual heat. Next to it was some flatten grass indicating that someone had slept there. Footprints were visible in a couple of frosted low spots leading away from the fire and aiming back at the trail.   
“He cannot be far ahead,” said Annalphus in a hushed tone. “Let’s keep it down and not announce our presence until we have to.”  
“Here’s the plan,” said Vertimus. “Harry, you and Ron stay behind us, but spread out a bit. Let the two of us talk to him. Don’t get too close. We don’t know how he will behave. We have already seen how he treats muggles. I am assuming Mr. Tuttle was also killed by him, so he doesn’t seem opposed to attacking magical folk, as well.”  
“Keep yourselves ready, in case we do get into a conflict. Be prepared, but not obvious. Walking up brandishing wands will surely provoke him. Just keep at the ready,” said Annalphus. “There are four of us. We should be able to handle him without too much difficulty if we are careful. Even Voldemort would have had trouble dealing with four skillful duelists, such as us, if we properly flank him.”  
They started back to walking, staying on the grass alongside the trail, to reduce the sound of the shoes and boots. They rounded several bends and crested several hills, getting butterflies in their stomach at each pass. The tension was palpable.   
Then it happened as the crested a small hill looking down onto a pond lined with trees and a small lane crossing it on the far side. Herpo was in sight.  
“Bugger!” exclaimed Annalphus in a hushed curse. Herpo was talking to what appeared to be a muggle woman carrying a bag.  
“Stay low,” said Vertimus. “Let’s see how he acts. Maybe we can get a read on him.”  
The woman sat down her bag and opened it. She handed him some food, apparently a loaf of bread and something looking like a sausage. He turned and started to walk away. Her lack of resistance to his demand probably saved her life, or perhaps even saved her from something worse.  
Once he had put a bit of distance between himself and her they started walking. He rounded a bend as they got to the lane, where the woman was walking, muttering to herself. They stopped as Vertimus hurried to catch her so he could ask about the encounter.  
“She was upset at first,” he said. “She thought she was going to be robbed a second time. Once I assured her I only wanted information, she was quite forthcoming. They had met at the intersection of the trail. He simply said he wanted some of the food in her bag. She said she was scared because he had an evil look to him. So she gave him what he wanted. She didn’t want to get into a conflict. Her husband might come after him later. I told her to forget it and gave her a bit of muggle money to pay for her losses. I told her we would handle him.”  
 


	12. Inevitability Happens

The group started walking, knowing it was just a matter of time before they would finally come face-to-face with Herpo. It is a foolish person who does not carry at least a small dose of fear mixed into temper his otherwise unbridled bravura. The bravura can give you the ability to charge forward, but it is your fears that make you think and sprinkle some wisdom into how you charge.   
“Are we still clear on the plan,” whispered Vertimus, the lone Ravenclaw among three Gryffindors. “Keep your heads about you. Otherwise, you might lose it.”  
They kept stealthily walking. The encounter was most likely minutes, not hours away. As they round a corner, there he was, sitting on a rock, eating his recently stolen food. The long-awaited meeting was happening.  
“Easy,” whispered Annalphus, as they approached, fanned out as was the plan. They were all on edge, knowing this could go any of many ways.   
“Good day, sir,” said Vertimus, stopping a respectful distant way from Herpo. “How are you?”  
Herpo barely looked up from eating. “Well,” was all he said.  
Ginny and Hermione both felt little flutters, but they did not call attention to the imminence of the situation. They passed them off as gas, perhaps a bit of indigestion from their breakfast. Both of them unconsciously rubbed their amulets through their sweaters.  
“Is your name Herpo?” asked Vertimus. “We are from the Ministry of Magic in London. We have been looking for you for some time.”  
Herpo stopped eating and started to stand up. It was the first time any of them saw his eyes. Their cold, icy blue was unnerving.  
“Easy,” said Vertimus. “We only wish to talk. We would like to ask…” Vertimus never finished the sentence.  
Herpo’s arm slashed in front of him. The movement pulled back the sleeve of his cloak, exposing a snakelike wand in his bony hand. He finished his move by pointing it at his staff, which was lying on the ground.   
Vertimus choked as the others raised their wands. A line of red was growing on Vertimus’ neck. Then his head flopped back, held on by no more skin and tissue than Nearly Headless Nick’s. He crumpled, blood spurting and pouring out of him.  
The staff turned into the giant, green snake that had eaten the muggles days earlier. It started moving rapidly at Ron. Harry and Annalphus shot spells at Herpo, who deflected them and return fire with a force that drove them both back on their heels.  
“Serpentsortia!” yelled Ron with a raise of his wand. “Serpentsortia! Serpentsortia!”  
Three snakes, collectively less than half the size of the one moving at Ron appeared, moving to attack it. The green snake grabbed one of them, crushing its head at the expense of being struck by the other two. It struck and killed another, taking another strike.  
“Serpentsortia! Serpentsortia!” Two more angry snakes appeared, striking the bigger snake as it killed a third snake.  
Harry and Annalphus were fighting a furious exchange with Herpo, whose power seemed every bit equal to Voldemort. With his cherry wand, Harry felt at the same disadvantage against Herpo’s wand as he had with his holly wand against the cherry wands of the students at Mahoutokoro. But Herpo was a far more skilled duelist than the students. This was a dire situation.  
Both Harry and Annalphus became locked against Herpo’s wand fire. The putrid green light from his wand hissed and splattered shards of magical light as it pushed back both of their streams of crackling red fire. They were going to lose this encounter without some kind of intervening help.  
The big snake killed another snake as Ron made three more. It killed another, but the other three scored repeated strikes, causing it to falter and final fall, returning to its wood form.  
“Vipera evanesca, vipera evanesca, vipera evanesca” said Ron, causing one, then the other smaller snakes to vanish in a smoky cloud.  
He turned his attention to the battle between the threesome, firing a spell that was drawn onto the end of Herpo’s wand as its sputtering, splattering stream of putrid green light neared the ends of Harry and Anlalphus’ wands.   
A bright flash of hot, white light exploded like a bomb, knocking all of them to the ground. Harry felt like he had been hit by a lightning bolt as he started to regain enough of his senses enough to realize he had to get back up and fight. Ron was on the ground off to his left, lying lifelessly. Annalphus, who was to his right, was almost to his feet. Smoke was rising from his wand.  
Ginny grasped the charm and her chest, falling to the floor, causing the plate of cookies she was carrying to scatter at the feet of the family. Molly screamed as George and Arthur sprung up. They pulled her onto the couch as she moaned “Harry, Harry,” in a fading voice.   
The family tended to her, giving her a drink of water and wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. Molly held her hand, rubbing it, with a look of dread fear on her face. As Ginny started to recover, she said, “Something happened to Harry.” The rest looked confused but tried to help her as best they could.  
Hermione had passed out in her office chair at work, unseen by anyone. She lay, unconscious for several moments before starting to come back to life. A dead sense of fright ran through her as she begun regaining her wits. Her amulet felt strangely warm against her breast.  
Harry looked for his wand. It was the middle of the day, but he felt like he was in the dark. All he saw was a charred handle end. It must have been destroyed in the explosion.   
Annalphus, looking dazed, regained his footing, Harry saw Herpo stepping toward them, smoke also coming from his wand. As Annalphus started to raise his wand, Herpo made a sharp, upward swoosh with his. Annalphus lurched, an expression of shock on his face. A red slash appeared in his clothes from his crotch to the base of his neck, like one made by a hunter gutting a deer or boar. His bowels spilled out through it as he crumpled.  
Herpo then turned his wand to Harry as he felt for his holly wand. There was still some numbness in his body. “Why are you hunting me? What do you want with me?” he yelled, trying to delay the death stroke he expected.  
“You are a relative of Antioch Peverell. He killed me long ago. I am going to kill you and all in the Peverell line. But first, I understand you have the Deathly Hallows. Where are they?” he demanded.  
“What? What are you talking about?” sputtered Harry. “I disposed of them after the war.”  
“Antioch’s line is extinct. You are the last of Ignotus’ line. You took possession of the Hallows. Where are they?” he demanded in an evil snarl, once again. “No one would throw them away. Give them to me.”  
Herpo did not notice Ron starting to regain consciousness. “I told you. I disposed of them after the war,” repeated Harry, which was mostly true. Harry had discarded Resurrection Stone in the Forbidden Forest where it was crushed into the ground by the hoof of a centaur during their charge to join in the defense of Hogwarts during the Battle of Hogwarts.  
Harry had replaced the Elder Wand in the grave with Dumbledore with the hope it would die after he had lived a long and natural life. The Cloak of Invisibility was, on the other hand, safe with his other possessions at The Burrows, unless it had found its way back into Hermione’s bloody beaded bag.  
As Ron raised up on an elbow, Herpo raised his wand. He appeared to pause, contemplating whether to further press his search for the Hallows with the torture curse, or two simply end this conflict with the end of Ignotus’ line of ancestry. This gave Ron just enough time to grasp his wand and raise it enough to fire a disarming spell at Herpo.  
“Expelliarmus,” gasped Ron. It was a weak spell, due to the fogginess of his mind, but it hit Herpo hard enough to knock him over and dislodge his wand from his hand. As Herpo started to sit up and move for his wand, Ron crawled toward Harry as Harry moved toward him. He grabbed Harry by the arm and dissapparated, reappearing a blink later in the yard in front of The Burrows.  
The group huddled around Ginny heard the sound of someone who had apparated reappearing out front. Percy ran over and opened the door. “It’s Ron and Harry!” he shouted. “They are on the ground out front.”  
There was a hasty exodus through the door. They surrounded Ron and Harry, helping them back to their feet. Ginny, who was the last to come out, pushed her way through the family and grasped Harry in a tight embrace, kissing him as well. “I thought you died, or something,” she started to sob.  
“I probably would have,” said Harry, “if not for Ron. He saved me. He was brilliant.” Ginny looked at her brother, and then sprung to smother him in a tight hug.  
“Finally,” said Ron, in a comment that probably made Fred smile as he looked down. “Finally I know how to get love from my sister. I just have to nearly get killed saving Harry.”  
George nearly fell over. The rest of the group guffawed. They all enjoyed a rare moment when someone got one over on her.   
Ginny stepped back and went to punch him as the rest of the family continued erupting in their tension-breaking laugh. However, it was cut short by a flash as Hermione, who could not think of anything else to do after her spell, reappeared in front of them.   
“Mione!” exclaimed Ron, running and grabbing her in a tight embrace coupled with several kisses.   
“Ron!” she said, starting to cry. “I felt like something awful had happened.”  
“It did, Mione. It did,” he said.  
 


	13. Uglier Than It Sounds

Arthur led the group inside where they could sit down and give Ron and Harry a chance to explain what had happened. They sat, mostly in stunned shock, at the retelling.  
“We finally found him and approached him,” started Harry. “Vertimus started to talk to him, just talking…”  
“Vertimus Odinson?” inquired Arthur.  
“Yes, he was one of our trainers, along with Annalphus Tillerman,” replied Harry.  
“Two of the best,” commented Arthur.  
Harry could only give a downcast look as a response. Arthur suddenly looked very concerned, which also stirred concern in the rest of the assembled group.  
“He said we were from the Ministry and had been looking for him. Herpo responded with this slashing move. You know how that septumsempra spell I found in Snape’s potions book cuts things like a knife stroke?” Ginny and Hermione nodded a yes, remembering the incident with Draco in the bathroom. The others kept listening.   
“This was like a hundred times worse. He just went swoosh,” mimicking Herpo’s stroke, “and it nearly removed Vertimus’ head.”  
“Merlin’s beard,” gasped Arthur. The others reeled back, not knowing what to say.  
“There was blood everywhere. There was not much more still holding his head on than Nearly Headless Nick’s,” said Ron. “It was bloody ghastly.”  
“Then his staff turned into a giant, green snake. It was kind of like Nagini. It came after me,” who looked a bit frightened just thinking about it. “I knew our magic didn’t do much against Nagini.”  
“What did you do, Ron?” said Hermione as she took his hand.  
I tried serpentsortia against it. I kept making more and more snakes. They kept attacking it. They finally killed it. I wish I had thought of that when Nagini was after us back in the castle,” he said, adding a second hand to his hold on Hermione’s.  
“That was brilliant, Ron. Truly brilliant. I know, always a total surprise,” she said, cutting him off with a kiss before he could say it. “Not really, anymore. Kind of expected.” That drew a laugh from the group as Ron blushed, now at a loss for what to say.  
“Annalphus and I were dueling with Herpo while that was happening. At first, we were exchanging hexes, then our wands locked up and it was the two of us against him. My cherry wand was really powerful. So was Annalphus’ wand, but his was pushing back against us. I have no idea what it is, but I have never seen or felt anything like it, other than the Elder Wand. It is something very special, evil, but special.”  
Everyone was on the edge of the seats listening. The cookies and punch on the table were being ignored. Other than Harry and Ron, you could hear a pin drop.  
“I looked over at them after the snake died. They were losing. I shot in a spell to join in against him. There was an explosion, like a ball of fiery light. Everyone was on the ground. I passed out,” said Ron.  
“When I started to come to,” said Harry, “I saw Annalphus getting up. His wand was smoking. All I could find of mine was a burnt handle. Then I saw Herpo coming forward. Annalphus moved to fight him, but he used that same spell he used against Vertimus. He cut him bottom to top. All of his guts kind of just came falling out of him as he fell. It was the ugliest thing I ever saw in my life. I really saw his eyes just die in his face.”  
Everyone grimaced, just imagining the ugliness of the scene. It was unimaginable to think of actually witnessing it.  
“Then he started coming at me. My cherry wand was gone. I started digging down into my gown for my holly wand. I asked him why he was doing this. What did he want? I needed time to get out my other wand,” said Harry as Ginny moved over and wrapped an arm around him in a tight embrace. “He went on about Antioch Peverell having once killed him. I think he is on a mission to wipe out the Peverell family heirs. Antioch’s line is gone. I am the last from Ignotus’ line. I don’t know much about Cadmus Peverell.”  
“Cadmus has heirs, including the Weasleys, if you want to go far enough out on the family tree limbs,” injected Arthur.   
“He seemed most concerned with finding the Deathly Hallows. He thought I had them. I told him I disposed of them after the war. He didn’t believe me. I think he paused to consider his next move. That’s is when Ron saved me,” he said looking at Ron.   
Everyone’s eyes turned to Ron. “I saw him pointing his wand at Harry and going on like he said. I was really boggled, but I managed to get up on an elbow and launch a disarming charm at him. It was all I could think of. It hit him in the legs and toppled him” said Ron as Hermione squeezed him tight. “I scrambled at Harry and we grabbed each other and I disapparated…and here we are.”  
“You a hero, Ron,” said Ginny, jumping over to give a second hug for having saved Harry.  
“If you say so. I am just amazed we are still alive. The Battle of Hogwarts was horrible, especially when Neville killed Nagini when it was coming at Mione and me, but this felt even worse, more hopeless. I was seeing two of the four of us butchered, and was about to see the third. I had nothing to beat him with on my own. I felt totally helpless, in a way. I never want to feel that way again.”  
“But you didn’t quit,” said Harry. “You fought that snake and won. Then you rose out of the darkness with enough senses to attack Herpo and save both of us. That is real hero stuff.”  
“Yes, Ron,” said Hermione. “You are a real Gryffindor.”  
They started trying to divert the conversation onto other things. Everyone needed to step away from this for a while, just for the sake of mental health.   
George opened a box of one of his newest items. Weasley’s Wheezes Wacky Wizardpop. It was a container of self-popping popcorn. The catch was it would just explode out of the container into the open room and you had to snatch it before it ran off under tables and chairs, or out the door. Sometimes, the piece you caught would burst into more pieces when you bit it, causing your cheeks to puff out like an overindulgent chipmunk. That provided a great amount of fun to everyone. It was planned to come in many flavors if it caught on.  
Predictably, chaos reigned over the room for several minutes. When the last of it had either escaped or been eaten, everyone was exhausted.  
When bedtime finally arrived, everyone was more than ready. Ron and Harry knew they had a long day ahead of them at the Ministry being debriefed on what happened, how the others had died and how Herpo ultimately escaped without killing them in the process. Then they were going to get into a battle about whether or not they were going to be part of the return hunt for him. They felt especially strong about that aspect.  
Herpo was actively hunting Harry. He was not the sort who wanted to sit back and wait for Herpo to sneak up on him. He was the kind who walked into the Dark Forest to face Voldemort. He wanted an active role.  
Ron felt similar. After all the group had been through over their years at Hogwarts, he was not going to be content with becoming a spectator, especially with what he had just been through in recent times.  
They had tracked Herpo from Hogsmeade across what seemed like half of the United Kingdom. He was not ready to pass the wand after almost getting killed a day ago. He wanted to press through to the end.  
“What are we going to say to them at the Ministry?” asked Ron, being very serious. “I don’t want to get killed, but I don’t want to do nothing, either.”  
“I don’t know,” said Harry. “I know you know how I feel about this. I am not quitting, no matter what. This is personal. I am not going to sit back and have others fight my fight.”  
“Right, mate. I am with you. I am not stopping, either,” agreed Ron.  
“Let’s get some sleep, then,” said Harry. “We need to be rested to face them back at the Ministry. They aren’t going to go easy on us. They are going to be more like Snape and Umbridge on a bad day.”  
The girls were having a similar discussion in the other room. They knew Harry and Ron were not going to quit, no matter what. It was not their way. It never was. And they were not fine with Harry and Ron going back without them. It was too painful to be stuck sitting back home.  
Hermione had some personal time left available to her at work. She was taking it, if necessary, no questions asked. She was in all of the way.  
Ginny planned to have a very private, very personal conversation with her team owner, coach and captain. She was going to make concessions, if necessary, to smooth the deal. No matter what, she was part of what was going to happen. Not being part of it was not an option.  
 


	14. Battle at the Ministry

In the morning, Hermione left for work before the rest. Ron and Harry followed shortly thereafter, accompanied by Arthur. Ginny made it back to Holyhead in time for practice. No one ever suspected she had ever left town.  
Hermione stayed busy with her normal responsibilities. There was nothing she could, or needed to do, until she knew the situation with the boys. Ginny practiced harder than normal. All of her pent-up feelings and frustration were taken out on the pitch against her teammates, who started referring to her as Samurai. Ginny ‘Samurai’ Weasley. She kind of liked it. She hoped it might stick.  
Ron and Harry found themselves in a meeting room with a group of senior people from the department. They had heard about these types of meetings but had yet to be part of one. After all, what reason could a couple of junior associates have to be giving the formal report on a mission? That was the role of Vertimus and Annalphus. This might have been their first time just getting to quietly sit in a corner of the room watching what they were about to take part in.  
The questions were many, long and very detailed. They were exhausted by the end. Nothing they had ever experienced at Hogwarts had ever prepared them for this level of questions and answers, not even a Snape OWL examination.  
They were eventually excused from the room to wait to be recalled later. There was a lot of heated, unintelligible discussion coming through the door. It was a nerve-wracking half hour. By the time they were asked to come back in, it seemed like a day had passed.  
The head of the committee, and also head of the entire Auror Department, Gawain Robards, thanked them for the excellent job they had done under these extraordinary circumstances in providing the department with details of both the disappearance of Opie and of the search for Herpo, which had resulted in the death of two of the department’s finest members.  
“You have to understand,” said Robards, moving the conversation from the details of the past ahead to what would happen going forward, “that we have to put this into the hands of our most senior officers. We cannot let you handle this on your own. You are not ready for that level of responsibility.”  
“Here we go,” thought Harry, looking at Ron with an angry face. “We are getting shoveled off to the sideline.”  
Ron held his tongue, but you could see when he nodded back at Harry that he also understood what was happening, and was no less pleased.  
“We feel it is best to let the seniors deal with this on their own.”  
“That’s not fair,” said Harry, gathering the courage to speak to the head of the department in disagreement. “We know this guy. He is hunting ME. I want to be part of this.”  
“Me, too,” said Ron, joining in. “Cadmus Peverell falls into my distant family line. If we don’t stop him, he is going to get around to hunting me and my family, too. I don’t want to sit on the bench.”  
“This is a job for senior, more experienced aurors,” said Robards, looking around at the general agreement in the room. “We do not want a repeat of the recent tragedy. These aurors will not be of the mind to mess around. They will not have time to lead the two of you.”  
“That is still not fair,” reiterated Harry, standing in a bit of an impetuous manner. “We want to fight. We were not a burden then. We will not be a burden now.”  
“I am sorry, Potter,” replied Robards in a forceful voice. “That is the decision of the department, and it is final. “You and Weasley need to take a week to recuperate. Then you will return to continue your regular training schedule. Good day.”  
Everyone in the room rose, gathering their property and making toward the exit. There was no use to argue further. It was settled, like it or not. Pressing further would only get them into trouble, or possibly permanently dismissed.  
Both Harry and Ron were in sour moods when the returned to The Burrows. They sat off by themselves, grumbling and muttering.  
“Good day,” growled Harry. “Thanks for what you did and we get Good Dayed.”  
“This is a complete load of waffle,” said Ron. “A week to sit around while this guy is hunting for us. Let’s just put up a big sign say HERE WE ARE, COME GET US.  
“I am not going to sit still while this guy is out there. I am going after him. We have a week. I just need to figure out a plan.”  
Just then, Hermione walked in from her day at the office. She sat down next to Ron and gave him a kiss. He did not respond. “What’s the matter, Ron?” she inquired, knowing something was clearly wrong.  
“They put us off the case, is all,” he snapped back. “Gave us a week to rest. That is total malarkey.”  
Hermione understood his upset and did not take his rudeness personally. Instead, she looked at Harry, who looked no less joyous.  
“We’re not…” started Harry, getting cut off by Hermione.  
“…I already know what you are thinking,” she said with an expression that was not to be messed with. “I have known both of you too long. You’re not going anywhere with…”  
“Blimey, Mione,” exclaimed Ron, interrupting her. “You don’t know what this guy is like.”  
“Voldemort, maybe,” she sneered in a heavily condescending voice.  
“Well…uh…yes…” replied Ron. She had him there. “But he is colder. Voldemort like to put on a show. This guy just likes to kill. And he likes to do it very sadistically.”  
“I get it, Ron,” she said, still not calmed down. “You’re still not going alone.”  
“I’m…” started Ron, but Harry grabbed him.  
“Let it go, Ron. You should know by now you can’t win this fight. We just need to start planning.”  
“And just so you know,” added Hermione, “Ginny knows, too.”  
Harry winced at her mention. “She will also be going, so get used to it,” she said.   
“What about quidditch?” noted Harry, hoping he might still be able to at least derail Ginny from their plan.  
“She is getting it worked out with the team. You know how she is. I doubt anything will stop her, once she has her mind set to it.”  
Harry and Ron sat, resigned to the fact their rebel plan had just doubled in size.   
“First off,” said Hermione. Already into the planning stage before she really knew where they were going. “You need a new wand, Harry. Your holly wand is not going to be enough.”  
“What are you thinking?” he asked.  
“You need to go to Ollivander’s in the morning. He’ll need to get you something more powerful, yet.”  
“Yeah, right.” He had completely overlooked that detail.  
“Are you just going to return and pick up the trail?” she then asked. “Do you think he is still heading for London?”  
Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged back at him. “Your girlfriend is taking over,” he said. “We are still the junior members, here.”  
“Oh, shut up, Harry,” she chided him, but then winked at him, as well. “You know I am a planner. We need to have some kind of plan before all Hell breaks loose.”  
Ginny came walking in. “What have I missed?” she asked, seeing the group looking all serious.   
They updated her on things. She was not surprised by any of it. She said she had permission to go anytime after tomorrow. They would need that time to finalize things.  
They talked a bit longer, trying to come up with ideas. Everything was based on the hopeful assumption that he would stay with his plan to make it to London following the Wizarding Path.  
After breakfast, Ginny headed back for practice and an afternoon scrimmage. Harry, Ron and Hermione took the Floo network into Diagon Alley. Mr. Ollivander was most delighted to see them all when they enter his shop.  
“This is a rare pleasure,” he said. What can I do for all of you? Is that cherry wand work well for you?”  
“That is why I am here to see you,” said Harry, who went on to detail how it had exploded in his hand during the fight with Herpo. “Can you build me another, perhaps even stronger.”  
“I am sorry, my boy,” he said. “There is nothing I could make that would be more powerful, and I do not have any more cherry to match that which I used to make the two I made for you and Ginny.”  
They walked out of the shop at a loss. As they neared Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop with the intent of getting a sweet distraction, Hermione looked at Harry and said, “You know what you have to do.”  
“NO!” he said forcefully, fully aware of what she was thinking. No. There is no way I am doing that.”  
“You have to, Harry,” she insisted. “The Elder Wand is our only hope.  
“NO! Absolutely not. I put it back in the ground with Dumbledore so it could die.”  
“I think you have to do it,” said Ron. “We’ve already seen how he is. We need all of the help we can get.”  
They went back and forth for several more minutes before Harry admitted what he had known all along. They had a few sweets and then apparated to the gravesite they knew too well.  
They stood reverently at the side of the crypt which still bore the scars from Voldemort blasting it open in order to steal the Elder Wand prior to the Battle. Harry was the only one to speak. He said, “I am very sorry, to disturb you, sir. You know I would not do this unless it was absolutely necessary. I promise I will bring this back if we survive. I wish you were here to advise us.”  
They took their wands and carefully removed the broken pieces of the top, removing the biggest piece last.  
Dumbledore’s body had withered to not much more than a skeleton covered by mummified skin. Only his beard and robe would tip off a person as to who belonged to these remains. Harry knelt down solemnly and gently removed the wand from where he had placed it after the battle.   
It actually felt good, albeit too wickedly powerful in his hand. It had apparently not changed allegiance, since the battle with Herpo was somewhat of a draw, in that Herpo had never finished it before they withdrew. He actually had considered breaking it, if it felt wrong when he picked it up.   
Getting up, he used the wand to help replace the stones and reseal the grave. He looked at the others. They all felt downcast by the weight of what they had just done.  
With the Elder Wand back in Harry’s possession, the three of them spent a fair amount of time discussing and formulating things. They hit on the idea of positioning themselves south of him. That would give him a chance to come to them while they sat up a trap. By their best estimates, it would be impossible for Herpo to have made it to Sheffield by tomorrow. He should still be at least a couple days to the north, under the assumption he was still on the path.  
They would follow the path north by broom, then find a place to set up camp back away from sight. They would need a good view back up the trail so they could prepare for him, once he was spotted.  
 


	15. Are We the Fools on the Hill?

By the time Ginny arrived back at The Burrows from her match, the team had everything assembled, ready to go. Holyhead had won 300-80 over the university team. Ginny had a ‘brute’ of a scrimmage, according to her teammates. They could not imagine what has spurred her up so much. She scored ten goals by the time the snitch was caught by their seeker. The cheers of “Samurai” echoed from the few attending the scrimmage for a very long time.  
The plan was explained to her as she got ready. They shared a meal with the family before heading out. It was a somber parting. None of the family wanted them to go, but they knew it was impossible to stop them. All they could do was share hugs and best wishes.  
“Be careful and come home. All of you,” said Molly, tears in her eyes as they lifted off and departed into the blue, pink and orange of the evening sky.  
It was too late to do much when they arrived at the trail south of Sheffield. They sat up a temporary encampment, surrounding it with protective spells. A permanent spot could be located tomorrow in the daylight. This would do for the time being.  
The group went to sleep. They wanted to get moving on finding the best location possible in the morning. The sooner they had a permanent spot secured, the sooner they could establish their plan.  
Ginny as was her nature, was the first to rise as the sun started illuminating the inside of the tent with a yellowish light created by being filtered through the canvas of the tent. She was already baking rolls, and cooking eggs and bacon when the others started rising. This would be their last hot meal for a while. They had no intention of tipping off their location, hidden as it would be, through smells coming from meal preparation.  
Once they had eaten their fill, they headed out to pick the optimum place. The trail passed Sheffield on the western side. It skirted along the edge of the Peak District National Park. It would provide many choices for them to choose from.   
They finally settled on a hilltop with a copse of rock-embedded evergreen trees about a mile north of their current location. It gave them a long view up the trail to the north, which was the best possible arrangement. To the south was a flat area running away from the foot of the hill. A small reservoir might provide an ideal site for their proposed ‘chance’ meeting scenario.  
The idea, as they had worked it out, was to wait until they spotted Herpo coming from the north. They would then set up a cozy little picnic for two pairs of young lovers to be enjoying some private time out in nature. They knew the weather would be on the cool side, but as long as it wasn’t raining or snowing, they thought they could pull it off.  
They pitched the tent on the southwest corner of the trees. It would be undetectable there from the north, even before it was shrouded in protective enchantments. Once the camp was completely secured, they organized a schedule of watches that would keep everyone as fresh as possible for the main event, when it happened. During the interim, none of them would expose themselves to open view for a person coming from the north. All activities, whatever they might be, would take place on the southern side of their encampment.  
Everything for the picnic was organized so that it could be laid in place as quickly as possible. If and when Herpo appeared, they wanted to look as casual and innocent as possible. They expected he would demand food, as he had done from the woman a few days earlier. Food for him to take would be there for the taking.   
With the camp well established, it was decided that the girls could apparate back to The Burrows to gather additional food that would both feed them and keep well for their picnic.  
Molly was the only person home when they arrived. She was shocked until they calmed her and explained what they were doing back home. They made a few things and gathered a few more. They were back in time for a late lunch with the boys.  
After eating, they began working on disguises for Harry and Ron. Herpo obviously had seen them during their first meeting. They could not chance being recognized. They wanted to move on their terms, not start out trying to blunt an attack.   
Hermione fixed Ron up much the same as she had on the day they broke into Gringott’s. Harry was given glasses with much thicker frames. His hair was lightened about halfway between normal and Draco’s. All of them had outfits similar to the same age muggles they encountered near universities. Their goal was to try to pass themselves off as university student types.   
They went through many mock picnics, both to hone their act and to pass the time. The snogging as he came upon them part was the favorite portion of their little play. They staged that part multiple times.  
Now came the hardest part, the waiting. It was decided to start the schedule of watches after dinner. It would end after darkness fell. Herpo did not move at night. They were certain of that. They would start them back up at first light. They did not know how early he started his day.  
Now was the tedious part. They were aware of how it would eat at you from the similar times during their search for Hermione’s parents. It was essential to keep their minds alert and vigilante while fighting off the boredom of sitting and wait. Part of them wished he would just disappear off the Earth, never to be seen or heard from again, while another part just wanted him to show up and get whatever was going to happen over.  
After lunch it was Hermione’s turn to man the watch post. She positioned herself stealthily in the trees where she could look up the trail to the north without the likelihood of being spotted, even by the sharpest of eyes. As Harry and Ginny were coming out of the tent with intentions of taking a bit of a walk to stretch and loosen their bodies, they saw two people, most likely muggles, approaching from the south.  
“Do you see them?” said Ginny and a hushed tone, even though they were far enough away they probably couldn’t have heard her if she were to yell.  
“Yes,” he replied. “Probably muggles out for a walk.”  
As the maintained their steady approach, it became apparent they were a pair of men, walking at a purposeful pace. “What are they doing on the trail? Muggles aren’t supposed to be able to see the trail.”  
“That’s right,” realized Harry. “I suppose it could be a couple of wizards heading north for some reason, maybe a visit or something. Then again, it could be a coincidence, and they still could be muggles.”  
They were inside the enchantments, so they were invisible to them, no matter who they might turn out to be. They would just need to be quiet and let them pass.  
Ron came out of the tent and started to look at the approaching pair. Ginny took off to warn Hermione about them. She was outside the protection grid and could be seen by them as they passed. The two of them slipped back inside, figuring that Herpo could not even begin to make it all of the way across the watch zone in the time it would take the strangers to pass by.  
They came closer and closer until you could hear their boots crunching on the gravelly surface of the trail. They were conversing, but it was not yet loud enough to understand.  
Ron suddenly looked at the others with a startled expression. “I know them!” he exclaimed in a whisper.   
Harry signaled him to be quiet. They waited for the pair to pass. Once they were out of earshot, Ron said, “The tall one is Achilles Fleckman, the dueling champion. I am pretty sure the other is Gundar Merkleson. He is another tough guy. He has a reputation like old Madeye.”  
“I heard of them,” said Harry. “I hadn’t met either of them, yet.”  
“This will complicate things,” said Hermione.   
“Yes, but it is out of our control,” sighed Harry. “I think it is best we just stick to our plan and stay here.”  
Everyone had to agree with that assessment. They had nothing better to offer. If they were to pull up and move, it could be a big mistake. Better they just wait. With any luck, the pair would return victorious, and they could offer congratulations on the way home.  
Hermione returned to her post and watched as the pair disappeared in the distance. Harry replaced her a little later, followed by Ginny. The rest of the day passed as a non-event.   
They ate sandwiches and soup with warm cocoa for dinner. Hermione used the same spell she was known to use to dry her clothes on occasion to warm the soup and water for the cocoa. It took a bit longer than a fire, but no one minded, especially once they were enjoying the warm food.   
Ron took the first watch in the morning. As the sun was coming up in the early dawn twilight he saw some curious flashes of light coming up from behind the hills to the north. They were green, red, orange, mostly green. Then, as quickly as they appeared, they stopped.   
He ran back to the camp to report what he saw. It was the consensus opinion that it must be a battle between Herpo and the two aurors. They wanted to know the outcome but were scared of exposing themselves. If Herpo won, he would be here within a day. If the auror won, they would probably apparate home, leaving them to wonder.  
They rotated through the rest of the day’s watch duty. Ginny was the last watcher of the day. Just before darkness signaled the end of the day, she was certain she saw Herpo appearing in the distance. She waited and waited, trying to detect any kind of movement. Then she saw a small fire pop up, still way across the valley floor. If it was Herpo, he was finished moving for the night.  
She hurried back to the tent and reported her sighting. The tension was palpable. On the one hand, he was in sight. But that meant, on the other hand, he had obviously defeated two of the best of the best duelist in the Magic World. That did not bode well for them.  
With great difficulty and trepidation, they laid down to try and get some sleep. Tomorrow was it. There was no getting around it. They needed to at least try to get some rest.


	16. Here He Comes, Walking Down the Path

Harry was up and in watch position before daybreak. He could see the dim, smoldering light of Herpo’s fire. He hoped that meant he was still sleeping.  
As the sky started to transition from dark to light, he saw the light from the fire go out. As the light grew brighter, he could make out a pinpoint of blue moving his way. It would take about 3 hours to make it to the hilltop. They needed to set up their picnic scene and get ready. He ran back to the tent and got everyone up.  
They ate a quick bite. Harry returned to his watch post. The others gathered the picnic items and started down to the little reservoir to get ready. When Herpo had made it to within an hour of him, Harry slipped away and headed down to the picnic spot to join the others. As he made his way down the hill, he wondered if they had be fools to be waiting up there for this. Maybe they should have went back to Tasmania, and left Herpo for others to address. After having battled Voldemort, it would be only fair for others to have a turn, and for them to sit one out.  
They made certain their clothes were right, and Harry and Ron’s disguises were perfect. Then they just started doing what a pair of young couples might be expected to do on a picnic way out in the countryside. They started snuggling and snogging, acting young and frisky.  
“He’s coming over the top,” said Ginny, who had the best view back toward the camp.  
Harry grabbed her and started snogging her with an urgency that she had never seen in him. She returned his kisses with all of her being. Hermione had a strong embrace on Ron. They were both kissing long and deep. None of them knew how this would play out. This could very well be their last kisses.  
They had purposely positioned themselves so Harry and Ron would mostly have their back to him when he arrived. Even with the disguises, the less he saw of their faces, the better. Hermione was going to speak to him if he said anything. Again, they felt he should not have a chance to recognize Harry or Ron’s voice. The food was placed between them and the trail so he would only have to take a few steps off from it to take whatever he wanted. They felt as ready as they could be. It was now up to their will and wile to see them through to victory.  
Harry could feel some nervousness pulsing within Ginny. He could hear Herpo’s sandals crunching closer and closer. He pulled her tight, kissing her with all his soul. He could see Hermione glancing toward Herpo.  
His footfalls fell silent. He was upon them. This was it. It was going to happen.  
“I want some of your food,” he snarled, in the voice they had heard at their first meeting.  
Harry and Ginny broke their embrace, as did Ron and Hermione. The girls looked at him, getting a taste of his icy, cold blue eyes and evil expression. Harry and Ron looked over their shoulders at him.  
“Go ahead, sir. Take some. We have plenty,” said Hermione in a calm voice that belied the terror hiding within her.  
Herpo stepped up and started rummaging through their basket of food. He pulled out a loaf of bread, a package of sausages, a block of cheese and a bottle of wine. That would be enough to get him through the day, and probably leave a little for breakfast.  
Herpo was many things, many bad things. He was a cold-blooded murderer, sinister, vindictive, hateful excuse for a person, but he was not greedy. As he turned to leave, he had taken no more than he needed and had left them about two-thirds of what they had brought.  
With his back to them, they started to stand and pull out their wands. Harry moved to cast the first spell but found himself blocking one, instead. Herpo had wheeled around and was standing, wand out, ready to fight. It was on.  
The battle opened with all four of them shooting curses at Herpo. He was blocking them with the same expertise you might have expected from Bellatrix or Voldemort. It was hard for him to send any back their way, but the ones he did hit like sledgehammers driving thumbtacks. A blackness was enveloping them, like an early nightfall. The grasses and nearby shrubbery burst into flame. The air, which had been filled with the sounds of birds moments ago, was now crackling a popping with the clashing of high energy magical power.  
“You lied,”” yelled Herpo, looking at Harry. “You have the Hallow wand. Give it to me. Give it to me and I will let you go.”  
“Take it, if you can,” yelled back Harry, knowing Herpo was obviously lying. If he had it, they would all be dead seconds later.  
After a couple minutes of intense fighting and maneuvering, their wand streams locked up with Herpo’s, four red streams pushing against a putrid, olive green stream that was slowly climbing toward each of them. It was not good. Even the Elder Wand could not throttle his hate-driven rage. Unless something dramatic happened, at this rate they were destined to lose, and that probably meant some, if not all of their deaths.  
The ground, now covered with charred, black ash started cracking like a desert, parched from too many years of drought. The water in the lake began to boil, spew steam and the smell of cooking fish into the smoky air as evergreens and deciduous trees that were still holding onto their leaves started to burn like freshly struck matches. An eerie, reddish-orange glow was dancing in the steamy, rising smoke.  
Herpo’s stream kept it relentless march forward against them. Their demise was imminent.  
“Look!” yelled Ginny, her head pointing up behind Herpo.  
“It’s Dumbledore,” cried out Hermione as his face and beard looked out at them from within the smoke.  
“Remember,” came his distinctive voice in that calm tone that he always seemed to master, no matter the situation. “Love is the strongest magic of all. You are much stronger as one, than you can ever be as four.”  
Hermione moved toward Ron as Dumbledore’s image dissipated.  
“We needed help, not a puzzle,” snapped Ron as Hermione grabbed him with her free arm.  
“I love you, Ron!” she said, sensing their impending doom as much as anything.  
“I love you, too,” replied Ron, knowing it could be his last words. Their wand streams united into one bigger stream. Herpo’s stream stalled in its approach to them, while still advancing on Harry and Ginny.  
Harry saw what had happened and took ahold of Ginny. “I love you, Gin,” he yelled over the sounds of the wand’s stream crackles.  
“I love you, too, Harry,” she replied. Their streams united, also stalling the advance of Herpo’s.  
The situation was now at a stalemate. It could boil down to a case of endurance. Then Harry started pulling Ginny and himself toward Ron and Hermione. “Grab me, Ron!” he hollered.  
Ron threw his free arm around Harry. “I LOVE ALL OF YOU!” shouted Harry.  
Hermione and Ginny seemed to get it. “I LOVE ALL OF YOU, TOO!” they both screamed. Ron then got it and also yelled, “I LOVE ALL OF YOU!”  
The effect was synergistic. Their two streams united into one bigger, far more powerful stream of impossibly brilliant red. Herpo’s stream was receding back toward him at a rapid pace. Then, as their stream touched his wand, there came a giant concussive flash, knocking them all backward and down.  
Hermione was on her back, moaning as Ginny regained her feet. Ron was almost back up, as was Harry. Herpo was flat on his back, arms and legs bent at odd angles, not moving.  
Ginny, being Ginny, charge forward and grabbed his wand from where it lay beside him. Ron ran up, two steps in front of Harry, and snatched the wand from Ginny’s hand. “No one should have something like this,” he growled, snapping it in half.  
“Brilliant,” said Harry.  
“I think I know why you didn’t keep the Elder Wand, now. I think I know why you didn’t want to go get it.”  
“It is way too much to be in someone’s hands. I don’t know how Dumbledore managed to keep it all those years.”  
“The adrenaline of the moment had numbed Ron’s senses. All of a sudden he blurted out, “Mione!” clutching his chest as he looked back in her direction. She was still on the ground, now writhing in obvious distress. He made it to her side faster than he could have apparated there.  
“Mione,” he said. “Are you okay?”  
“I hurt,” she moaned, obviously in great pain. “My hand is on fire.”  
Ron looked down and nearly choked. It appeared like some of Herpo’s spell had ricocheted around during the explosion and hit her hand. It was several shades of stomach-turning brown and green and yellow. The effect was growing, moving up her wrist.  
He reached down to cuddle her, trying to think of something to do. His mind was too frightened to think straight. The love of his life was hurt, and he was panic-stricken.  
Herpo, groaned, just as Harry and Ginny were about to go to Hermione’s side. “I am Opie, Ophioneus Eaurynome," came a weak, raspy voice as he tried to reach out to them.  
“That’s the missing boy we were looking for at Hogwarts,” said a startled Harry as Ginny looked over to him.  
“I am responsible for Herpo being alive. I couldn’t help it,” he gasped, trying to speak with a failing voice. “I c-c-couldn’t help it. He took over my mind and body. He made me bring him back to life.”  
Harry and Ginny were now on their knees, holding up his head. “We understand. We know how things like that can happen.”  
“You have to destroy his charm. His evil lives in his charm. Tell my family I am sorry, and I love them. I…I…” his voice failing. The light in his blue eyes faded, then went out as he rattled one final breath.  
They laid his head down gently and removed the necklace with the charm from his neck. “We can’t take this back to the Ministry,” said Harry. “If they get it, they’ll want to tinker with it. First thing we know, he’ll be back, again. We have to destroy it.”  
“Definitely,” agreed Ginny. Let’s hide it.”  
They lifted a large rock next to them and hid it underneath for later disposal. They were too scared to carry it with them.  
“Hermione!” said Ginny, suddenly remembering her. She sprang up and ran to her side, followed by Harry. The curse had moved about five inches up her arm and was still growing. A sickening, fetid smell was coming from it.  
“We have to get her to St. Mungo’s, NOW!” said Harry.  
“I think she is too weak to apparate,” said Ron.  
“Do it,” groaned Hermione. “Please, do it.”  
Harry pictured the room with Neville’s parents. It was the best he had. “I’ve got this,” he said putting an arm around her and vanishing. Ron and Ginny vanished a few second later.  
They appeared on the floor of the psychiatric ward near Frank and Alice Longbottom. “HELP!” he cried out to a startled nurse attending to another patient. She ran to them, and seeing the situation, set off an emergency alarm.  
Ron and Ginny had appeared in a different part of the hospital. By the time they found Harry and Hermione, she was surrounded by doctors and nurses. They were poking, testing and administering all sorts of care.  
“Is she okay?” Ron asked Harry, deeply concerned.  
“I think so. They seem to think they know what it is and how to treat it. It is definitely serious. But I think they are on top of it.”  
Ginny put her arm around Harry, worried, but being quiet. The doctors continued their examination. A nurse brought in a potion that seemed to taste worse than Polyjuice from Hermione’s response to it. Another nurse began applying a thick, viscous looking substance. From her reaction, it seemed to be easing her discomfort.  
Once they moved her into a room where she could rest and heal out of the noise and activity of the ward, Ron parked a chair next to her. She was wearing a hospital gown under a covering of sheets and blankets. Her clothes were stacked neatly beside the head of the bed with her amulet, bag and other jewelry atop them.  
“How are you doing, Mione?” he asked in his most soothing voice as he took her hand and clasped in his.  
“I am weak and I hurt,” she said in a drowsy, weak breath.  
“Do you need your heart back?” asked Ron in a very earnest tone. “I’ll give it back to you if you need it.”  
Her weak grip strengthened in his hands. “I already have a good heart. It is the only one I will ever need. It will see me through this.”  
Ron smiled as he leaned over to kiss her. The heart in his chest felt very warm.  
 


	17. Crossing the t’s & Dotting the Lower Case j’s

Ron stayed in his chair, hardly leaving for the next three days. Ginny had to return to the Harpies. They understood the situation. Of course, it probably helped she was a star player and they had won the match played during her unexplained absence. She came back to see Hermione as often as possible.   
Harry had gone to the Ministry and reported to the Auror office after Hermione was placed in her room. Once he was debriefed, he returned and stayed nearby until the fourth morning, when Hermione was due to be discharged. Ron was relieved to find out they still had jobs. Technically, they had not done anything wrong. The Ministry had taken them off the case and told them to take a week off. They had not told them implicitly what they should or should not do. It was suspected that Kingsley might have provided some additional aid in smoothing over their plight.   
The doctors and nurses said this was the most potent and foul-smelling putrefying curse they had ever treated. “She has a strong heart,” said the head doctor. “I have seen patients not survive lesser versions of curses of this nature. They are very aggressive. She didn’t even end up losing a fingernail. That’s almost unprecedented.” They were glad to hear the caster would no longer be casting curses such as this.  
Hermione got ready to leave. Harry and Ginny were waiting for them downstairs. “Could you feel my pain while I was lying there, dying?” she asked Ron.   
“No. Why? Oh yeah,” he said with a confused, concerned look. “I should have. I wonder why I didn’t.  
“I was wondering the same,” said Hermione as she took his hand. “I should have been feeling something from you, but I wasn’t. You were very concerned. I have a theory.”   
“What’s that, Mione?  
“I think it has to do with my amulet. I think I need to be wearing it for us to share feelings with each other. We need to test that.”  
“How can we do that?” asked Ron with a puzzled expression.  
Hermione took off the amulet and sat it away from her on the bedside table. “Stun me.”  
“What!?”  
“Stun me. Hit me with a stunning charm.”  
“No! That’s crazy.”  
“Do it, Ronald!” she demanded. “It’s the only way to test it.”  
Ron reluctantly pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. “Stupefy!” he said with half-hearted conviction. Hermione toppled back onto the bed.  
She sat there, dazed and confused for a moment. Finally, she shook her head and said, “Did you feel it? You should have.”  
“No, I didn’t feel anything. Weird. Are you okay, Mione?”  
Hermione pulled the necklace back over her head and tucked the charm into her jumper. “Do it, again,” she said.  
Ron knew he had to. He raised his wand and once again said Stupefy.”  
Hermione toppled backward onto the bed. This time, Ron’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor.  
They looked at each other, trying to shake out the spell-induced fuzziness. “That’s it,” said Hermione, still a bit groggy. “It’s the amulet. I knew it.”  
“Yeah. Right,” was all Ron could manage.   
When they got downstairs, they explained to Harry and Ginny what they had discovered. They offered to help them prove it to themselves. They both said they would take their word for it.  
With Hermione now released, they decided it was time to deal with the charm they had stashed under the rock near the battle site. Hermione said she was strong enough to apparate, and wanted to go along. The four of them vanished from in front of the hospital, appearing at the site.  
When they arrived at the battle site, they barely recognized it. The Ministry crews had obviously been there. Herpo’s body was gone. New grass and shrubbery were in place, as well as fresh trees. They were very good at what they do,   
The stone, which they selected for hiding the charm under, was too big to be moved without some magical assistance. “Wingardium leviosa!” said Ron with a swish and flick. As the rock lifted into the air, Ron gave Hermione a smug smirk.  
“You must have had a good teacher,” giggled Hermione, remembering the spat before the troll thumping in their first year. His smirk faded, having been busted.  
Ron sat the rock down off to the side. Harry picked up the charm. “Do you suppose it is a horcrux?” asked Ron.   
“I don’t know,” replied Harry. “I guess we’ll have to test it.”  
The charm was placed on the ground and they started casting spells. Incendio! Diffendo! Bombarda Maximus! Confringo! When a reducto spell from Ginny, the queen of the reducto spell, failed to harm it, they were certain it was still an active horcrux.  
“We need a basilisk fang, or something,” said Harry. Where’s your bloody, beaded bag when we need it,” he grinned at Hermione. Ginny laughed.  
“You haven’t seen her upgrade,” she said, smiling at Hermione, who was opening her Burberry purse.   
“What?” said Hermione with some fake indignation and a hair flip. “A girl needs to be fashionable when she works at the Ministry,” as her arm disappeared inside.   
“They are all gone,” she said, her hand coming out empty.   
“Where is the Sword of Gryffindor when we need it?” groaned Harry, peering into her new bag.   
A glint of red caught his eye. He reached into the bag and pulled out the gleaming sword.  
“Awesome.” Said Ron. “Who is going to do it?”  
They all looked at each other. “I did the diary,” said Harry. Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement.”  
“I’m glad about that,” said Ginny. Otherwise, well…you know.”  
“You did the locket, Ron,” he continued. “And Hermione did the cup. I think it’s time for Ginny to join the club.”  
Ron and Hermione looked approvingly at Harry. “I think you’re right,” said Ron.  
“Are you up for it, Ginny?” asked Hermione.  
“Yeah, Gin. It’s your turn,” urged Harry, reaching out to her with the sword.  
Ginny looked around. “Okay, sure. I guess I can do it.”  
Ginny took the sword from Harry. They laid the charm on the rock. “Give it a big, sound stroke. There is no telling what it will do when you hit it. Riddle’s diary and the locket both tried to kill me. The locket got into Ron’s head, too. It tortured him until he finally hit it. So don’t hesitate. You don’t want any of that. When you’re ready, just do it. Then be ready for all Hell to break loose. There is no telling what will happen after that.”  
“Definitely. When I stabbed the cup with the basilisk fang I ended up with Ron snogging me. The horrors,” laughed Hermione.  
“Yeah, right, funny girl,” said Ron, feeling unfairly barbed.  
Ginny looked at the group, the sword firmly gripped in her right hand.  
“Okay, Samurai, are you ready?” asked Harry, looking her in the eye.   
“Sure,” she smirked. She loved her nickname.  
“Okay, get over there and do it on three.”  
Ginny got in position, shuffling her feet like a batter waiting for a pitch, as the others watched. Her fingers subtly moved, adjusting and readjusting her grip on the sword.   
The others knew all too well how this thing had the potential of fighting back when it sensed danger. Harry looked to Ginny. “Okay, on three. One…two…three!”  
Ginny didn’t hesitate, giving it time to fight back. Her stroke was fast, clean and true. There was the clank of steel on stone as the charm exploded against the blade. They were all knocked over backward as a giant, spectral basilisk rose up out of it in a cloud of smoke and fire, roaring and striking madly in the air. It came down at them, mouth full of gleaming, dagger-like fangs and eyes glowing a sickening, bright yellow. Then, just as quickly it was gone. They slowly regained their feet, looked at each other and smiled, trying to smooth their ruffled clothes.  
“Is this the time for the kissing part?” asked Ginny with a nervous titter of a laugh, shaking her head to clear her senses as she turned to look at Harry.  
“Yes, I believe it is,” he answered, pulling her into a long, passionate embrace.  
“It’s a tradition,” said Ron, with a cheesy grin as he wrapped his arms around Hermione. They kissed for a long time.  
When they broke apart, Hermione laughed, “You’re such a fool, Ronald Weasley.”   
“Yeah, right,” he smirked with a flash of satisfaction as Harry and Ginny looked at them and joined in on the laughing.   
“Let’s get out of here,” said Harry, picking up the shattered remnants of the charm.  
A few second later they were walking into The Burrows. That night the group enjoyed a huge celebratory feast. The report back to the Ministry could wait.  
The next morning found Harry and Ron back at the Ministry for a final round of debriefing. They gave them the destroyed horcrux, saying it had been destroyed at the end of their battle. That seemed to be an acceptable situation, inasmuch as they were not questioned further about it. The Ministry said they had dispatched a team specializing in handling situations like this to talk to the parents of Opie. There is no easy way to tell parents that a lost child has been found in a deceased state.   
They also learned that a team had found Achilles and Gundar. It was a horrid situation. Herpo had apparently overpowered them in a duel. Achilles had, from what they could determine, been turn into a sheep, then turned inside out. Gundar had been turned into a very scared dog, and was feeding on the carcass when they came upon the scene. Once they successfully transfigured him back to human form, he was taken straight to the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo’s. The situation had taken him over the edge of what could be called within the ability of the mind to handle. He was placed in the same ward as the Longbottoms, with no positive prognosis for a recovery in the foreseeable future.  
It was expected they would both receive commendations before returning to training. Harry and Ron tried to beg out of them, but Robards was most insistent for the overall good of the Ministry. They reluctantly accepted, as long as Hermione and Ginny also would be recognized for their contributions.   
Ron apparated to The Burrows, where the four of them could have a final hug before attempting to return to business as usual. He filled Hermione and Ginny in on the meeting and commendation situation. Harry apparated to Hogwarts following the meeting, so he could take care of unfinished business.  
The others then took the Floo Network to Diagon Alley. They walked into Ollivanders.  
“Good day,” he said. “How can I help you?”  
“What can you tell us about this wand?” asked Ron, handing him Herpo’s broken wand.  
Fascinating,” he said. This is ancient, very ancient. Perhaps two or three thousand years old. It is olive wood. I never use olive. It is highly unpredictable. An olive wand could be weak as a quill, or vastly powerful. No way to know until finished. Not worth wasting time to make in my estimation. Too many failures. This one was thirteen inches and…unyielding. That’s usually a bad sign…a dark sign. The core is…what is this? I have never…no wait…ah, yes. I know it. It is minotaur hair. Extinct, impossible to get, today. Very rare, even in its day. Very frightening stuff, if it matched up into a wand. This wand has the potential of being incredibly dangerous. I think it best that it has been broken. It has a darkness attached to it like it was used to do incredibly evil things. As to the owner, I have no idea. It is not an Ollivander wand.”  
They told him the story of Herpo and the wand. He was even happier it had been destroyed. Wands like that are best to have never been created. Like the Elder Wand, they were too powerful to ever be safe.  
Harry carefully unsealed Dumbledore’s crypt for what he hoped would be the last time. He knelt down and placed the Elder Wand back the way he had found it.  
“I brought it back, sir, just like I promised. I hope this is the last time I ever disturb your rest. Thank you for your help.”  
He could not say more, lest he break down. Without Dumbledore’s advice during those critical final moments, he may not be standing there. He was grateful to have him alongside his parents, Sirius and Remus as guardians from beyond. He stood up and replaced the stones with the utmost care and reverence. As he finished, he swore he heard a voice say, “I must once again amend my original statement. Help will always be given to those from Hogwarts who deserve it.”   
He returned to The Burrows, where they all enjoyed a well-earned hug. As it ended, a collective sigh of relief was enjoyed by the four of them with the hope this would be the last time they would ever be tossed into the middle of anything even remotely as traumatic as the past few weeks  
 


	18. Epilogue

It was a beautiful, starlit night. The mood at The Burrows was as festive as it had been in many years. The big tent, which had hosted Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and the return of Hermione and her parents, was once again erect along with another of equal size. The overflow of guests was of epic proportions.  
Celtic music was pouring out from inside as the gathered masses stood and danced in celebration. Drinks and food were abundant and delicious.  
Arthur climbed onto the makeshift dais and used an amplified voice to capture everyone’s attention. “Welcome, everyone!” he shouted in his boisterous, cheerful voice. “Thank you for coming to attend this most special of occasions. Never before has The Burrows and our family had more joy to celebrate at one time than we have today. I have the pleasure of making some introductions to you. So please raise your glasses as I welcome Mr. and Mrs. Harry and Ginny Potter”  
The crowd started to cheer and applaud, but Arthur called for them to hold their peace. “WAIT! WAIT! I also want you to welcome Mr. and Mrs. George and Angelina Weasley. Again, the crowd started to rejoice, but Arthur waved to silence them. “HOLD ON! HOLD ON! Finally…” he continued with a huge, Arthur-like smile, “Please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Ronald and Hermione Weasley.”   
The crowd hesitated. Then Arthur said with a sip from his toasting cup, “Now is the time!” The crowd took a drink of their meads and the tent began shaking as everyone cheered and clapped with great abandon. The six of them all looked at each other with the biggest smiles they had smiled in a very long time.   
Love, peace and a joyous happiness filled the tent, pouring out into the air, and the world once again became, as the world should always be.  
Nox


End file.
